The Other Side of an Unbalanced Destiny
by TGP
Summary: With Draco starting school in September, Lucius Malfoy forces Severus to return to Hogwarts and, by proxy, Remus Lupin. Sequel to The Other Side of Normal. M/M slash. SS/RL
1. Chapters 1 through 4

**The Other Side of An Unbalanced Destiny**

**Rating**: NC17 (M on FF.N)

**Pairings**: RL/SS, LM/SS

**Warnings**: Slash/Yaoi, Angst, Violence, Werewolf!Snape

**Notes**: There will be only vague reliance on the normal timeline for this story. Sequel to the Other Side of the Mirror and The Other Side of Normal. Chapters of this story are posted on Adultfanfiction(dot)net daily. As sex or violence show up, it will be edited out to be posted here. Feel free to follow both versions.

**Chapter 1**

**As Scary As Fate**

Harry Potter, otherwise known as Johnathan Harold Snape, would be eleven years old in one month, two weeks, four days, and six hours. At the moment, he was hurriedly getting things ready to leave Durmstrang in the next few days for the summer. Severus Snape could see him easily from the living room, where he was getting books together. They would be spending the summer at Malfoy Manor, as usual. And after that...

Harry would begin school in September. Severus had already spoken with Karkaroff to do the necessary application process. Not that he was worried. With the dirt he had on Karkaroff, which the headmaster most assuredly did _not_ want public, Harry was assured a place there for better or worse. The boy would be happy, if only so he could be near Cissienia Novak and her infant daughter.

The pregnancy had been very difficult on her because of her age, but Cissienia was too stubborn and willful to abort, even with urging from her husband. He was there the whole time, monitoring her progress and consulting with Severus and Koenig over various potions to keep her strength up that wouldn't interfere with the child. She stayed in Novak's close summer home and visited on Sundays.

When the baby was born, Cissienia survived and the three men gave a collective sigh of relief. Now, only six months later, she was quite convinced that she would return to work that September and resume teaching with little Avina staying with her father or Koenig, who'd been named the child's godfather along with his wife as godmother. Severus applauded the choice and was rather amused when Cissienia told Harry that he'd have to be a good godbrother to the baby, a responsibility the boy took very seriously.

Severus watched as Harry carefully packed up his books and toys. He could be rather meticulous when he wanted, though he generally had a much messier disposition. As long as he cleaned his room on Sundays, Severus didn't tend to mind it. Now, however, he'd asked Harry specifically to pack carefully to save space. The boy was obedient enough to mind at least this much. Generally, Harry wasn't all that rebellious, but he had his moments and Severus had been assured by Koenig that those moments were nothing like what would come later as the boy aged. Severus wasn't too worried.

He wondered what it would be like, with Harry busy getting into the glories of school. Harry was already rather independent and self-relying, so he doubted that would change much. He wondered if Harry would ask for help with his homework or just go to his friends for study groups. He _would_ have friends. Harry was outgoing and personable, so Severus had few doubts of the boy's ability to find company. And with Harry's natural prowess on the gently-used adult broom he'd gotten for Christmas, he was assured at least the athletic natured boys would likely flock to him. Harry spoke of Quidditch often. He had every intention of joining the team when he started school and had notions of breaking the taboo of only picking students second year and older. Stubborn as he was, Severus had little doubt he'd manage.

After watching his son a bit longer, Severus finally looked away and went back to packing. They left Durmstrang two days later and made a short trip to their home on Spinner's End before heading on as customary to Malfoy Manor.

Draco Malfoy, newly eleven only days before, greeted them with his usual cocky smirk. He'd, for some inane reason, decided to emulate his father's foppishly long hair by gelling his own back, making it look slightly longer than it actually was. Severus had never really understood Draco's insistence on being like the man, but he supposed it was much like why Harry _still_ refused to cut _his_ hair. The black locks brushed his shoulders with messy bangs falling so fully into his face that they rarely had to use their concealing method on his scar.

Draco led them to their customary guest rooms, chattering about this and that, but Severus heard little of it. His thoughts went to the scar. He'd still not told Harry where it came from or anything about the business with the Dark Lord, other than what Harry had read in his history book. He had no notion that he was so critically involved, though he _did_ find it a little odd that he shared the birth date and nickname of the boy savior. Severus knew the time was swiftly approaching that he'd have to tell him. He was loathe to do it because telling him that... meant explaining _everything_.

He was terrified of losing the gentle sound of "Father" from Harry's lips.

Draco and Harry chatted as the latter of the two set his things away. Severus could hear them through the short hall that connected his room to his son's. It was strangely calming. Harry and Draco had cultivated a good friendship between them, though they often bewildered one another. Harry had once asked why Draco had so much against non-magical people and Severus explained as well as he could, but he doubted Harry really understood. Even being raised within Durmstrang, Harry had been tainted by rather little pureblood diatribe, to which Severus was grateful. It likely had to do with the fact that Severus admitted to the boy of being halfblooded himself and that Harry's mother had been muggleborn.

Suddenly, Severus heard the word Hogwarts. He listened more closely without even thinking about it. Draco started going on about the school, dictating that he would, of course, be in Slytherin and Harry would _have_ to come with him-

"But I'm going to Durmstrang," Harry replied calmly. "With my father."

"What are you going on about? _My_ father said you'd be going to school with _me!_"

He almost saw the exasperation Harry must have been showing. "Not everyone does what your father tells them to do, Draco. And _I'm_ not. I'm going to Durmstrang. I want to stay near Father."

"But he _said_- Harry, you cannot leave me there _alone!_"

Severus felt a little sorry for the boy and the obvious anxiety he heard in his voice, but his thoughts shifted. Malfoy had told him that? But he _knew_ Severus intended Harry to attend Durmstrang while he taught there. Severus frowned. Perhaps the older man had simply misspoken, or else Draco may have misunderstood him. Both were used to getting what they wanted and _hearing_ what they wanted came hand in hand.

In the other room, Harry was comforting Draco as best he could, citing out Draco's other friends who _would_ be staying in England for school. It wasn't so much of a big deal, now was it? And he certainly wasn't leaving him _alone_. Draco still snipped and sniped anyway.

Once Severus had his things settled, a house elf came to fetch him for afternoon tea. The boys went off to amuse themselves elsewhere and Severus drew at his iron will once again as he went to face Malfoy. After years of this arrangement, he was quite used to doing it.

The eldest Malfoy aged well. Severus would have rathered he hadn't. The man was conventionally beautiful and sickeningly Aryan, minus blue eyes anyway. His face was more distinguished and far too much like his father for Severus to be comfortable. The old man had been a terror before he died.

"Ah, Severus. How _prompt_ you are," Malfoy murmured with an amused smirk. He always looked amused when Severus was involved.

"Malfoy."

Except for the summer holiday, Malfoy tended to ignore him and Severus liked it that way. He'd have rathered leave the man behind completely, but Malfoy was an insidious bastard. He'd have found a way.

"Honestly, the way you call me. One would think we _weren't_ old friends."

"We aren't," Severus said in a blank tone as he stirred honey into his tea.

"You wound me."

"Lovely."

Malfoy's lips quirked and Severus hated how even that was done with graceful beauty. He hated Lucius Malfoy.

"Well, since you're absolutely set on lacking in pleasantries, I suppose we shall have to get to business," he murmured with boredom in his tone. Lucius always sounded either bored and amused. Sometimes both at once. He was talented.

"Please do. I will enjoy getting back to my rooms for a peaceful, _solitary_ afternoon," Severus countered without a bit of warmth. This used to bother Malfoy. He'd grown used to it in the last years of their dalliance.

Malfoy merely lifted a brow. "I'm sure you would. The matter concerns my son. He shall be starting school this September."

"Naturally. He's not quite as _slow_ as his father."

That one stung. Severus felt a mild adulation when Malfoy's eyes narrowed. He'd pay for it later, but he'd stopped caring about that.

"...Quite. As I was saying... With Draco beginning school, I find myself rather _worried_. He needs watching, that boy. _Cultivating._"

Severus lifted his gaze, lips pressing in a white line. Times like these, he wished Malfoy was the kind of man to spit things out already.

"...Yes?" he prompted.

"I would like _you_ to do this cultivation."

Severus lifted a brow. "The boy will be journeying to Durmstrang, then?"

"Oh, no. Narcissa is completely against sending him so far." Malfoy smiled at the faint confusion on Severus' face. He rested his head on his folded hands. "I have it on firm authority that Horace Slughorn has been desperately trying to find someone of skill to replace him. _You_ will be that replacement."

For a moment, Severus was absolutely still. He stayed quiet, eyes boring into Malfoy as he tried to decode this newest order. Perhaps Malfoy had gotten all he wanted from Karkaroff. It was the only thing he could think of that would make him repeal his decision to leave Severus in Germany.

"I shall have to inform Karkaroff of my resignation," he said slowly.

"Oh, I've already taken care of _that_," Malfoy murmured with a short, cold laugh. "Igor seemed rather _relieved_. Don't tell me you've been tormenting that man all these years."

"There was little other entertainment."

"I'm sure."

As soon as Malfoy had amused himself all he could from their meeting, he dragged Severus off to molest him properly and then finally let the younger man go when he grew tired of Severus' complete unresponsiveness. The whole routine made very little impact anymore.

Severus stepped into the shower as soon as he returned to his room to Malfoy's disgusting touch from his skin and heal his sore body. Then he wrote a letter and settled to wait for Dumbledore's reply.

**Chapter 2**

**The World Spins Wild**

Dumbledore, as usual, was very prompt. He set up a meeting and Severus took a dull sort of glee in telling Malfoy he would be unavailable. Harry was safe enough. Malfoy would do nothing to the boy, especially with how fond of him Draco was. If there was anything Severus trusted, it was Malfoy's unending spoiling of his son.

Severus left the house just after lunch and made his way out to the apparition point. From there, he went to Hogsmeade and finally up to Hogwarts. There was no one about except a house elf or two, who greeted him curiously before popping off to warn anyone around that he was there. Severus ignored them and found his way to Dumbledore's office. The statue jumped aside as he reached it. Severus went on.

Dumbledore greeted him with a warm smile and a handshake Severus could barely make himself return. He felt a coldness permeate him when Dumbledore touched his hand and it only got minimally better when the older man released him. This was normal. Apart from Harry, no one could make contact without triggering the cold. Severus didn't really care enough to wonder why, but he avoided touch whenever he could.

"Albus," he greeted quietly as he folded his arms over his chest.

"It's good to see you, Severus. It's been a long while since we last saw one another, hasn't it?"

Severus sat down across the desk and Dumbledore returned to his chair as well.

"I've come in regards to replacing Slughorn," Severus began. "I've been told he wishes to retire?"

"Indeed. How strange. I didn't think it was public knowledge to anyone but the school governors..." Dumbledore looked at him but Severus ignored the less than subtle probing.

"I wish to apply for the position."

"Have you grown tired of Durmstrang?" Dumbledore rested his clasped hands on the top of his desk. "You seemed quiet insistent on staying there when last we spoke."

Severus thought back. Less than a year ago, Dumbledore _had_ mentioned some vague reference to him staying in England, but he'd not heard any sort of offering in those words. Then again, he wouldn't have taken it anyway.

"Various things have changed since then," Severus murmured.

"Mm. I wonder. Harry shall be of schooling age this summer, will he not?" Severus nodded and Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "Lovely. I've been waiting rather patiently for the time I would meet him properly."

Severus narrowed his eyes. "That is assuming he doesn't attend Durmstrang. Karkaroff has already accepted him."

"Oh?" Dumbledore leaned a bit on his desk and smiled. "He'll have to be disappointed. Harry was enrolled here almost eleven years ago. The tuition was paid for then as well. You'd _hate_ to waste that, now would you?"

He shouldn't have been surprised but Severus felt a slow anger knowing even this was out of his control. He was rather sure Dumbledore would find a way to get his way in this even if Severus _did_ protest. He wouldn't, but he _wanted_ to, just to spite things.

"You planned it this way from the start," he couldn't help but say.

"Perhaps. Of course, a few things changed. If you hadn't returned by this summer, drastic measures would have had to be taken." Dumbledore looked at him intently. "You're quite important to my plans, Severus."

"Of course." Those mysterious plans. It wasn't as if Dumbledore had _ever_ cared about him personally. Severus wasn't surprised now. "Then you will give me the position."

"Quite right, my boy. Horace will be relieved to know he can leave."

Severus nodded faintly, lips pursed. "If that's all, I shall take my leave."

He rose as Dumbledore nodded and headed back out.

"Severus," Dumbeldore called suddenly. Severus paused and glanced back, still frowning. The old man's eyes were suddenly serious. "The name on our rolls is Harry Potter. It won't be changed."

Severus' hands tightened at his sides. This, he had expected as well, but it still galled him that Dumbledore seemed intent on ripping every decision and every choice out of his hands. He hated that he was letting it happen.

"I'd already decided the time had come," Severus murmured and his voice came out in the faintest hint. No doubt Dumbledore could hear his resentment. "It is Harry's decision which name he keeps. Your _roll_ will change according to _his_ will. Surely, you can offer him _that_ much."

Dumbledore looked thoughtful as he sat at the desk. Severus held his eyes the entire time, refusing to be the first to back down. He didn't care if Dumbledore ruled his life like so many already had, but he'd be damned if the old man did it to Harry as well.

"Very well. Send word quickly."

Severus nodded, accepting the win gracefully. Then he left before his smoldering resentment could raise it's ugly head again.

He wandered Hogsmeade a while to cool his head. Tonight. Best to get this over with quickly and give Harry as much time to make it all right with himself before being blindsided by the rest of the world and what they would think of him. Harry deserved that. Severus finally returned near dinner and waited until the meal was over to call Harry to him. The boy gave him an odd look but nodded and followed his father back to their rooms. Severus closed the door and then drew his wand to cast a shielding spell over the space.

"Father?" Harry murmured, looking a little confused. Severus sat down on the edge of his bed.

"Come here, Harry," he said quietly.

Harry did so, sitting down. He fidgeted a bit. "Have I done something?"

"No." Severus rested his elbows on his knees, hands hanging between his legs. "No. You've been... very good, Harry. But there are a few things we need to discuss."

The boy shifted himself, crossing his legs under him as he stuffed his hands into his lap. He wasn't quite looking at Severus, eying him from the side instead. This was important and he could feel it.

"We've talked a little about your mother," Severus began. Harry straightened and watched him more intently. Severus hesitated, glancing off, and then forced himself to continue. "I've told you her name was Olivia Spatts. That was a lie."

Harry frowned. "What? But... I've seen my birth certificate. It's right there."

"I know. The certificate is fake." Severus couldn't look at the boy. "Your mother's name was Lily Evans... No. Lily Potter."

"Which one is it?" Harry demanded. He sounded irritated and Severus didn't blame him. "Evans or Potter?"

"Her married name was Potter." Severus straightened himself and stood, beginning to pace slowly. "This will all be very surprising and upsetting but if you'd please listen until I've finished-"

"Are you trying to tell me I'm Harry Potter?"

Severus stopped. Slowly, he turned his head and stared at his son, who's hands were tightly clenched on his knees. His face was white but his brows furrowed and eyes determined.

"Yes. I am." Severus sighed faintly and looked back at his hands. "Your name... We changed it to protect you. There are... many who would have come after you otherwise."

"Like the man in the cave?"

Again, Severus felt himself stiffen. He pursed his lips and then nodded. "Yes. Like the man in the cave."

Harry's eyes slid off him, staring off into nothing. "...I wondered. Why that man yelled at me when he came and hurt Cissie."

Swallowing thickly, Severus looked towards the boy, studying. There was a great tension in his shoulders and his hands were white knuckled. His eyes seemed a bit glassy. Mild shock.

"You don't have to be 'Harry Potter'," Severus offered. "That name... You don't _have_ to take it up. It isn't _you_."

Harry's lips quirked up into a weak smile at first but it dropped quickly. "Can I think about it?"

"Yes. Whatever your decision, I will inform the school." Severus paused then, remembering. "Ah. I... You'll be attending Hogwarts this September."

The boy's head whipped around and his eyes widened. "What?! But- but _Father_, you can't send me there alone!"

Severus found it a little odd to hear Harry repeat words he'd heard from Draco Malfoy only days before. He folded his arms over his chest.

"You won't be. I've taken an offer to teach there, instead of Durmstrang. Harry, I will_ never_ leave you alone."

Harry swallowed thickly. He stared at Severus intently, as if to make sure he wasn't lying. Severus felt a stab of guilt that Harry hadn't trusted his words immediately.

"This is quite a lot to take in at once," Severus murmured with a soft sigh. "Take time and think about it. If you absolutely refuse to attend Hogwarts, I will arrange it and decline the offer."

Harry stood slowly and scratched at one arm, not quite looking at him. "..I'll think about it."

Severus nodded.

"Good. If you have questions, come find me. I won't force you to decide quickly." He stepped closer and hesitated a moment before resting a hand on Harry's shoulder, feeling tight muscles under his fingers. "Go get some air. Take a short walk."

Harry glanced at him, nodded, and then headed for the door. He paused there, hand on the knob, and spoke without turning around. "Father... Did... If my surname is Potter... I was born after Mother married."

"Yes." Severus felt a sudden fear, wondering if he would ask now, if his trust was suddenly so shattered.

"...I hope Mr. Potter was nice to her." Harry said softly. Severus didn't reply immediately but Harry didn't seem to expect it. The boy left and Severus sat down and wondered how he'd tell him the rest.

**Chapter 3**

**And You Hold My Hand**

Harry didn't sleep well. He ended up sitting in bed, holding the picture of his mother that his father had given him. He stared at the red haired woman as she waved and smiled back at him and wondered, faintly, if the photograph was a lie as well. Maybe this was Olivia Spatts and Lily Potter looked different. Maybe she had black hair, like him. She had to have green eyes because his father certainly didn't. Or maybe her parents did?

He swallowed. Getting up, Harry padded to the shared bathroom between his room and his father's. He stayed very quiet and made sure both doors were shut before he turned on the light and stood in front of the mirror. Harry set the photograph against the mirror, propping it very carefully, then reached up and shoved his hair back from his face as best he could.

His eyes were exactly like the woman in the picture's. He leaned close, squinting a little as he studied her face and then his own. His nose was rather like hers, as was the shape of his face. Of course, his father was a _very_ smart man. He'd have found someone who looked enough like him if he was going to lie about photographs too.

There was something else, however. The way she smiled seemed so very familiar. Harry watched her for a long time. Maybe it _was_ his mother. He'd seen a picture of this woman with a black haired infant. It might be him. Harry pursed his lips and picked up the photograph again, bringing it close. She was pretty. Father had said his mother was, but that could have been a lie too.

Harry knew his father had loved his mother, whoever she was. He could see that plainly enough not to doubt a bit. As he stared at her picture, he wondered if she had loved him as well. Certainly enough to make _him_, anyway. He frowned at her anyway.

Why hadn't she stayed with his father?

He thought back to the man. Severus Snape was a quiet person and very private. Harry had been told his father wasn't very handsome but many felt a strange _power_ from the man. A strength. Harry felt that as well. He knew his father could take anything and remain so strong, supporting him through everything. But Father certainly wasn't perfect. He had a temper and was very suspicious. He thought the world was far more deadly than Harry ever had. Sometimes, Harry thought he might be scared to venture any farther than he already had. But that was stupid. How could a powerful wizard like his father be afraid of anything?

In any case, Harry couldn't see a reason why his mother chose another man before he was born. He couldn't understand why anyone would hurt his father as much as she obviously had. Harry had caught his father here and then, holding one of the carefully framed photographs he left around their rooms, just staring at her. Before Harry had asked two years ago, there had been _no_ photographs. Harry almost wished he hadn't because before that, he hadn't had to see his father's quiet, lonely grief.

If his mother hadn't loved this man who grieved for her so long, Harry wondered if she'd loved _him_. Father said she did, but Harry wasn't so sure. He wasn't sure if he wanted her to, either. Frankly, he felt rather angry with her suddenly.

He finally decided the photograph really _was_ her, even if there were none with his father in them as well. Shaking his head, Harry went to bed and laid there, staring at his ceiling once he'd set the photograph back onto the side table.

The next day, his father was very quiet. They ate breakfast together and Harry ignored the way Father's eyes drew to him here and there but said nothing more than the usual breakfast conversation. Harry didn't mind. He wasn't sure he was ready to talk about things yet. His father went off to do some work and Harry headed outside to one of the safe gardens Draco had shown him. Most of them weren't safe. For some reason, Mr. Malfoy seemed to like dangerous, man-eating things in his gardens instead of pretty flowers, but Mrs. Malfoy had one or two of her own with roses and carnations and such. Draco knew all their names but Harry never could remember right.

He sat on a stone bench and stared as a bee fluttered around a bright yellow flower as he thought about Mr. Potter. There had to be a reason his mother chose that man. Harry knew his name, from his reading. James Potter was well known for defying the Dark Lord during the war, but he was more famous for being the father of Harry Potter, who'd defeated the madman at a year old. Harry wondered what the world would think if they knew James Potter _wasn't_ his father.

"What _are_ you doing out here?" Draco asked suddenly from behind him. Harry jumped a bit, then rolled his eyes as Draco plopped himself down beside him. "You look like someone _died_."

"Do not," Harry replied with a frown. "And I'm _thinking._"

"Did it hurt?"

Harry smacked his shoulder and Draco smirked at him. "No. I was..."

"Well, spit it out already," Draco muttered, leaning back on his arms as the wind played with his hair. He hadn't gelled it today, so it flew about rather wildly. Harry preferred it that way because he thought the gel was stupid.

"...Father took an offer to teach at Hogwarts, so I'm going there too after all," he murmured. Draco grinned.

"Really? Lovely. We finally get to be around each other more than just for the _summers_." He looked very happy. Harry managed to smile back.

"Yeah. Now I just have to worry about this 'sorting' thing you've told me about..."

"Oh, I wouldn't." Draco waved a dismissive hand before leaning on it again. "You'll be a Slytherin like me. I mean, you father was so you will be."

Harry blinked. "Father went to Hogwarts...?"

"You didn't know?"

"He doesn't like talking about past things..." Harry trailed off but Draco just shrugged one shoulder.

"Oh. Well, I suppose not. _My_ father doesn't either. But Uncle Severus _was_ a Slytherin. Father said he was a very _good_ Slytherin too. Said he kept his marks high and everything, so _I_ have to be like that too. Father was, but Mother says Uncle Severus did better with school things even if Father was better with other things."

Harry nodded. It sounded like his father. He wondered if he'd be able to do as well and if Father might be angry with him if he didn't.

"Do they have Quidditch there? At Hogwarts?"

Draco snorted. "Of _course_ they do. But first years don't play."

"I could still _try_, couldn't I?" Harry murmured, lifting a brow.

"I guess. If you try, I will, too."

Harry grinned. "We could play together."

"You _are_ my best mate," Draco drawled, trying not to grin back. "Of _course_ we play together. _Someone_ has to watch your back."

At the mention of that, Harry's face fell. Suddenly, it wasn't Quidditch he thought about. He remembered the way his father had looked last night, saying his name change had been to protect him. Protect him from _what?_ The Dark Lord was gone and couldn't Father protect him from whatever dark wizards were about? The man in the cave had been a fluke, he was sure. Harry couldn't remember another time he'd been in danger.

"Harry?" He looked up as Draco watched him with faint worry. "Still there in that thick head of yours?"

"Still here," Harry replied with a shrug. He looked back at the yellow flowers and saw the bee had disappeared.

"Draco," he murmured softly, "you're my friend no matter what, right?"

"Of course." Draco seemed a little confused.

"Even... Even if I'm not who you think I am?"

"Who else would you be?" Draco had a brow lifted when Harry glanced at him but the blond _was_ taking him seriously.

"I... Father said..." Harry trailed off. He didn't quite know how to say this without blurting it. His hands clasped in his lap. "Father said my name's Harry Potter. And my mum's name isn't Oliva. And-"

"Wait, wait, Harry, _stop_." Draco reached over and grabbed his shoulder, waiting until Harry managed to lift his gaze up to his face. "What are you going on about? Of course you're not Harry Potter. Your father's having you on."

"But... But, Draco..." Harry swallowed thickly. "He wouldn't play a trick like this on me. He... Draco, I have the _scar!"_

And for the first time in eleven years, Harry dragged his hair up out of his face and rubbed his forehead hard enough to displace the charm and make up covering his scar. Draco stared, his gray eyes rather wide.

"Harry," he whispered out, then reached up to touch it. Harry swallowed thickly at the feel of Draco's fingertip sliding along the rough lightning bolt. "This... This _can't_ be right. Are you having_ me_ on?"

"No. I... Draco, what if I really _am_...?"

Draco pulled his hand back and continued to stare at the mark even after Harry let his hair drop back over it.

"What if it's true?"

"It might not be," Draco began but stopped at the look on Harry's face and furrowed his brows. "If it _is_... What about Uncle Severus?"

"What?" Harry frowned with confusion.

"Well, if you _are_ Harry Potter... then Uncle Severus isn't your father."

Harry stilled. He stared at Draco with wide eyes. That thought hadn't occurred to him at all. Could Father really not be his father...? It seemed unimaginable. He _loved_ his father and Father loved _him_. And cared for him. And raised him. Harry couldn't remember a time without Father.

"That's not true," he whispered. Draco looked at him a moment and then turned away.

"...You're right. That's stupid. Of course Uncle Severus is your father."

"Right." Harry didn't feel steady with that at all. "Right, he... He _is_ my father."

"Right," Draco repeated.

But Harry didn't feel any better. He closed his eyes, hands curled in his lap as he leaned forward.

"...Right."

**Chapter Four**

**As The Sun Goes Dim **

Harry didn't actually feel any better when he returned inside with Draco. They played a few games of Wizard's Chess and he failed more miserably than usual. Mostly, he just listened as Draco talked about this or that, complained about some kid named Vincent and another one named Milicent. Harry didn't know them, hadn't met any of Draco's high blooded friends, and he didn't particularly care to either from Draco's stories of their idiocy.

"Honestly, Harry, you're the _only_ person I can get a _decent_ conversation with," Draco complained. "Except Pansy, but she's a _girl_."

He apparently didn't consider Milicent a girl but Harry didn't blame him. She had a habit of pulling people into headlocks, if Draco's stories were to be trusted. Decidedly ungirly, they agreed. Harry wondered if Cissie had ever put anyone in a headlock but he doubted it. Cissie was very girly, though not quite like Draco's mother.

Mrs. Malfoy never seemed to wear the same clothes twice and kept her hair and make up in perfect condition all the time. Harry didn't know why she bothered. She was pretty enough without the work. Of course, sometimes Cissie had bothered, like when she got married. She'd been very pretty and Harry'd felt rather sad through the ceremony. He may have been a little sweet on the woman. Not that he held any grudge against Mr. Novak! The man was... well, not _nice_, but it was obvious he cared about Cissie and she liked him too. So, Harry had quite honorably kept his affections to himself. At least Cissie said he could be god-brother to little Avina. He wondered how the baby was. He'd scarcely been away from her so long. Maybe she would pine. Harry hoped not. He also hoped his father would take him to see them before school-

That thought stopped as Draco took his last Rook. Father... There were still doubts lingering quite fully in his mind but he didn't want to think about that now. Later, maybe after dinner, he'd talk to Father. Maybe he'd write a letter to Cissie. She _always_ knew what to do and how to make him feel better.

He did end up writing after dinner. He rewrote it four or five times before he thought it was well explained, then sent the letter off with his father's owl, Ozymandias. The old bird gave him a disgruntled hoot before heading off at a leisurely pace. Harry rather thought Ozy did it on purpose, just to make it seem as if the whole business was an absolute imposition. He used to nip Harry's fingers hard but now seemed to have decided it wasn't worth it. Harry watched the bird until he disappeared, then a while long as if he might come back right _then_ with Cissie's sagely advice. But he didn't, so Harry went on to his room again.

His father kept looking at him, watching him with sad eyes and a slightly lost expression. He seemed about as bothered by all this as Harry was. It still didn't make the idea of talking to him any easier. Harry avoided his gaze and knew that Father would give him the time he needed. Father always did.

So, Harry avoided talking for days. He played chess or Quidditch with Draco, studied in his room, spent hours in the Malfoy's library, or just wandered. It wasn't peaceful, but he just didn't know if he'd _ever _be ready for this.

Cissie's letter arrived four days after he'd sent his own off. Harry jumped up when Ozymandias returned and grabbed the letter, getting a hard nip on the knuckle before the bird let it go. Harry didn't mind that. Instead, he ripped it open and read quickly.

"_My Darling Harry,_

_It sounds as if all of this has been very shocking."_

That was an understatement. Harry snorted a bit before continuing on.

"_I know you're very confused and it seems too big and crazy, but trust your father to lead you well. He loves you and everything he does is for your happiness. He would __**never**__ hurt you intentionally. Remember that always._

_What I know about your past, identity, parentage... I know your name is not Johnathan Snape. I've known for a very long while. But just because you've thought of yourself with one name this long does not mean it defines you. You're Harry. You always have been and always will be. Changing your surname with not change that unless you __**let**__ it."_

Harry swallowed. Somehow, knowing that Cissie knew and still treated him with such fond regard made him feel a little better. It still hurt that she'd never told him.

"_Trust your father, Harry. Whatever he tells you, whatever it all means, he will never abandon you. He will never leave you alone. Trust him and it will be all right._

_All my love,_

_Cissienia Novak_ "

Harry read over the letter a few times as he sat on his bed. He drew in a soft sigh, closing his eyes as he folded it up again. Trust his father. Trust the man who had lied to him... but Father said he'd done it to protect him. Cissie said he'd done it to make him happy. Harry didn't feel protected _or_ happy at that moment. But it was time for the truth. The _whole_ truth.

Though he wanted to postpone it forever, as if that might make any difference, Harry found his father that evening. Father didn't make it difficult. He'd been keeping to his rooms or the library since their talk, if he wasn't spending time with Mr. Malfoy. This time, he was in his rooms and he looked faintly surprised when he opened his door and saw his son. Harry watched a faint defeat enter his gaze.

"Come in," Father said quietly, drawing the door farther open so that Harry could come in. He shut the door after him and then stood there as Harry crossed to sit at the edge of the bed. For a while, there was quiet. Father waited, letting Harry decide how they would talk, what they would discuss first. He did that when he was uncomfortable or simply weary. Harry almost hated making him feel that way.

"You... You said my mother and you were never married," he managed finally.

"Yes. She chose another man. James Potter. He was our year mate at Hogwarts."

Harry nodded a bit, hands curling in his lap as he pulled at his fingers. "Why? Why didn't she marry you?"

"I suppose..." Father sighed a little and leaned against the door, not looking at him. "She was in love with Potter. Not me."

"But... But you two made _me!_" Harry burst out suddenly and his father winced. "I mean, she _had_ to have loved you a little at least. Enough for... for _me_..."

Father was silent. His arms crossed his chest, hands tight along his upper arms and white knuckled. He looked like he was in _pain._ Harry hated causing it. He tried to take it back, but Father cut him off.

"It's.. It's not that simple, Harry." Father drew in a slow breath to calm himself, but his face was white and his hands still clenched. "You... I didn't... Harry, I love you. I love you very much and that will _never_ change."

Harry stiffened at the harried tone in Father's voice. His own hands tightened and his chest burned. Father looked at him and for a moment, Harry was terrified he might begin to cry. He looked suddenly weak and scared and broken and lonely and_ lost_...

"I... I adopted you, Harry," Father said finally and it sounded as if the words had been ripped from his chest. Harry just stared at him. "Potter... James Potter is your father."

For a long for moments, Harry just stared at him. When Draco had said it, that seemed so... _impossible_. That Father wasn't... That someone else _could_ have been... But Father had said it. Father had said it looking him in the eye with that painful openness on his face.

"Your parents," Father continued finally, voice quiet and deep, "They died when you were very little. I.. Your mother had been my friend. I couldn't leave you alone. It was... I had no intention of taking your father's place from you, Harry. I never did. But you _wanted_ that. You asked if you could call me Father and I let you... I... Harry, I hope that some day you can forgive me for this."

Harry didn't know what to say. Neither did Father- _not Father_. He knew he was breathing too quickly and his chest _hurt_, so tight. Father- _not Father darn it!-_ said nothing. He waited as he always did. Usually, it made Harry feel better, not being pressured, but this time, he only got _mad_.

"You're not my father," he said swiftly, brows furrowed. Father- _not Father- _stared at him in silence as his face fell into that blank slate it became when he was upset. "You're not.. You _lied_ to me!"

"Yes. I did."

"You let me believe... I... I _trusted_ you!"

The older man swallowed thickly. "Yes. I know."

Harry wanted to throw something. He wanted to rip something between his hands, burn it, scream out loud, _something_, but all he could manage was to stand and shake faintly.

"I...I... I don't even know what to _do_ with this!"

Father- _not Father- Severus_ sighed very softly and dropped his gaze to the ground. "You need time to process... to think about this."

"I don't _want_ to think about it," Harry shot back and Severus closed his eyes.

"I know it's hard, but-"

"No." Harry narrowed his eyes. "You don't know_ anything._"

Severus went silent and didn't look at him. His face was utterly bereft of feeling, but the faint trembling in his hands said it all. It hurt even more when Harry realized that angry as he was, he still didn't want to hurt the man, but he couldn't let this go.

"Who _am_ I?" he snarled. Severus opened his eyes again.

"Harold James Potter, son of Lily and James Potter."

Harry hated that. He'd wanted Severus to say Johnathan. To make all of this a mean spirited joke. He almost wanted to renounce the name Harry Potter completely, but he couldn't. He couldn't live any more lies.

"I'm going to Hogwarts," Harry snapped out. "And I'll go with _my_ name. No more lies. _Ever."_

Severus looked at him, quiet, and then nodded slowly. Without another word, Harry left. He heard the faint shudder in Severus' breathing but ignored it as he slammed the door shut behind him. Even the loud noise and the violence of it didn't soothe him. Harry stormed through the hall, scared a house elf, and then went outside.

His eyes burned and watered. His chest was so tight he could barely breath and when he _did_ breath, it hurt and shuddered. His hands shook and nails dug into his palms as he clenched them. He wished he didn't know. Why had his father told him this? But Severus Snape wasn't his father. He was a _liar. _He spun stories and lies and... and... And he'd cared for him since he was a baby. He'd raised and protected and taught and _loved_ him. He'd given so much and even told him the truth now, when it hurt. When it burned like fire.

Harry's knees weakened. He slid down to kneel in front of a patch of roses and buried his head in his hands. Confusion swept him, harsh as the unforgiving truth. He didn't know what to think, what to do.

He wondered if Cissie would come get him and make everything okay again. He doubted it.


	2. Chapters 5 through 8

**The Other Side of An Unbalanced Destiny**

**Rating**: NC17 (M on FF.N)

**Pairings**: RL/SS, LM/SS

**Warnings**: Slash/Yaoi, Angst, Violence, Werewolf!Snape

**Notes**: There will be only vague reliance on the normal timeline for this story. Sequel to the Other Side of the Mirror and The Other Side of Normal. Chapters of this story are posted on Adultfanfiction(dot)net daily. As sex or violence show up, it will be edited out to be posted here. Feel free to follow both versions.

**Chapter 5**

**There's Fright In the Dark**

Severus didn't sleep. He read, brewed, got together lesson plans and the like, but sleep was a terrifying prospect when even being awake did not clear Harry's accusations from his mind.

 The boy was perfectly in the right. He had lied. He'd misled. Harry had every right to be angry with him. He just wished it could have ended... better, if not completely well. Severus couldn't help the feeling of utter failure that railed over him.

In these years, he'd not missed Remus so much as he did now. Remus would know what to do, what to say, how to heal the damage and bonds. He'd hold him, secure and safe, until he could deal with the hurt and loss. Severus never realized how proud he'd been that the child carried _his_ name for so long. And now Harry didn't want it. It hurt more than he'd ever imagined.

Malfoy was insufferable. He knew something had happened but Severus refused to include the man in his misery. He didn't want it to get worse. Draco was apparently keeping mum, but he kept looking at Severus very oddly but he never brought anything up. Severus was grateful for it.

It took days for Harry to even look at him again. Severus stayed calm and patient. If Harry was going to forgive him, he wouldn't cave any more quickly to needling. Too stubborn. Too much like Severus.

However, it finally happened. They talked. They talked about Lily and James Potter and Hogwarts and Voldemort. Severus had never been so candid about the Dark Lord as he was then. He made Harry understand who and what Voldemort had been and why it was so important that Harry had stopped him, however that had happened. He told Harry about the Mark on his arm and why he'd taken it. Harry asked about _his_ parents and Severus told him of Tobias and Eileen. The subject made them both uncomfortable, so they quickly went back to Lily and James.

Severus knew he should have mentioned the prophecy, but he didn't. Nor did he mention his lycanthropy. Harry was well used to him disappearing two days a month and had never bothered asking about it. After all, it had been happening since Harry was too young to remember. He'd accepted that. Severus would tell him one day. Maybe when they were less awkward with one another.

Harry didn't apologize and Severus was grateful. He didn't know what he might have done if the boy had. He honestly didn't deserve that.

Things weren't perfect between them anymore, but they were... acceptable. Harry didn't know what to call him anymore, so Severus made that decision for him. They went back to calling him by first name. It hurt to listen to, but Severus had known he didn't deserve the title years ago and it was right to drop it again.

The rest of the summer was quite a bit less traumatizing. It became easier as each day passed and Severus and Harry settled again. The letters came just before Harry's birthday. Severus took both boys to get their school things with Narcissa tagging along. She was intensely proud of her son and would likely have taken him directly to the school on September 1st if it were allowed. Since it wasn't, she concerned herself with fussing over Draco indulgently, which the boy didn't really mind.

Severus caught Harry watching the two blonds, taking in the open affection between them. He wondered what the boy saw, what he felt, but it didn't seem right to ask. Harry deserved his privacy. If he wanted to talk, Severus would keep himself open to it.

They gathered their supplies and uniforms, got various equipment and stood in front of the broom shop for a bit. Then Narcissa treated them all to ice cream. Harry and Draco talked and laughed at a little table of their own while Severus and Narcissa sat alone. Severus stared at the ice cream, eating it slowly.

"I know how you feel," Narcissa murmured suddenly. He looked up at her and there was the faintest compassionate lilt to her eyes. "They grow up so fast, don't they?"

"Ah... Yes. Yes, they do." Severus glanced towards the boys.

"Lucius wanted to send Draco to Durmstrang, you know, but I wouldn't have it." She gazed at her son fondly. "I'd never send him so far away. Hogwarts is safer anyway. And you'll be there to watch him. I don't worry so much."

Severus made a quiet noise of agreement, slightly embarrassed to have the woman voicing herself like this. They'd never been all that close, really just tolerated each other for her husband's sake.

"Severus. Have you ever thought of dating again?"

His eyes jerked to Narcissa's face, brows furrowed and mouth set in a hard line to hide how much she'd startled him.

"No."

"Oh, come on. Harry's_ quite_ old enough to understand the need for companionship," Narcissa purred. "And having a mother figure around would be good for him."

"I have no intention of involving myself with _anyone_ else," Severus ground out. She laughed a little.

"Oh, Severus, you cold thing. I know a few lovely girls. Second daughters, you know, partial inheritors. I could introduce you if you're going to be so shy."

He scowled harder. "I've no interest. Kindly drop the subject."

She glanced over him, head rested on one delicate hand, and for a moment, she looked far more like her husband than was comfortable. Severus made himself hold her gaze anyway.

"....All right. But I haven't given up," she said at last. "Maybe a later time, when you've settled at Hogwarts well."

Severus gave a disgruntled noise but she did drop it, at least for now. The four of them returned to their shopping soon enough and then went back to the Manor for dinner.

For most of September, Severus stayed very busy with lesson planning and brewing. Apparently, Slughorn had been unprofessionally abrupt in leaving his post, not even replenishing the infirmary potion stores. So, it was up to Severus to do it and quickly.

Harry came in, one day or another, and helped him. The boy had grown up around potions and though he was rather shoddy with the more advanced ones, his preparation techniques were rather spot on by then. Severus had made sure of that, if nothing else. He knew Harry would likely excel at whatever he decided to do, but it did made him happy that the boy bothered to learn _this_ part of Severus' trade.

Two weeks before the start of term, Severus attended the first staff meeting of the year. He arrived rather early and ended up chatting up McGonagall. They had never been _close_, but she seemed happy enough at his return to the staff. In a way, it seemed as if he hadn't been gone at all. She treated him just as she'd always had without a thought to the near decade he'd spent in Germany. It was refreshing and a little reassuring, really. The others weren't quite as pragmatic. A few held him nearly in contempt while others were simply cool and aloof. Severus didn't mind. It was reassuring as well. He knew his place and where he stood with them. Perhaps in time, they would accept him again.

And then Remus Lupin walked into the lounge and Severus nearly stopped breathing. He'd stopped mid sentence with McGonagall, who looked at him with faint confusion before she spotted the other man as well.

"Oh, Remus, it's nice to see the summer has been good to you," she greeted. Remus offered her a smile before his eyes lifted to Severus'. For a moment, the two men stared at each other in quiet. Remus had aged ungracefully. He looked far older than their handful of years past thirty. His light brown hair was peppered with gray and a few strands of white and his face was lined with years of harsh living and pain. He moved with the faintest sore limp in his knees, but the full moon had only been a week ago and Severus knew from experience that the aches could last quite a while, especially as they got older.

Remus smiled again. "Hello, Severus. Good to see you again."

He sounded so... Normal. Unbothered. Absolutely fine. Severus wasn't sure what he'd been expecting but it hurt suddenly. It hurt that Remus wasn't suffering. That Remus didn't seem to miss him at all. He barely kept it contained within himself.

"Lupin," he murmured with quiet cool. Remus' smile didn't falter.

"Is Harry doing well?"

"Quite."

"He'll be starting here, will he? I'd thought he was the age for it."

"He will."

It felt so... empty. This small talk. His tightly clenched chest. Remus's smile. So very empty and cold and wrong. Severus was bereft and he supposed that in truth, he deserved it.

McGonagall took over at some point, querying Remus over his classes. The man was apparently teaching Muggle Studies and had been for the last year, since Quirinus Quirrel had taken a year off for practical experience with fighting the Dark Arts. The man was slated to teach Defense this year, but when Severus finally spotted the turban wearing man, he doubted Quirrel could manage to say a full sentence, much less teach a class. He'd been very competent _before_, when he'd taught Muggle Studies, but a year fighting banshees, gnomes, and the like had apparently shell-shocked him. Severus didn't feel the need to sneer at him, but that had more to do with his own emptiness than Quirrel's pathetic continuance.

Dumbledore arrived soon enough and the meeting got underway. They spoke about various wards and protections for the school, a few troubling students to keep watch of, and other things that really hadn't needed to be discussed in the group.

Finally, Dumbledore caught to a more important, at least to him, subject. "I shall also warn each of you that young Harry Potter has at last become of age to attend here."

More than a few voices rose in speculation, others seeming faintly awed and a few more slightly worried. Severus kept himself absolutely silent.

"He is in good health, I assure you, and should prove a rather interesting student. I ask that each of you take it upon yourselves to watch out for him and see that the boy does not get into any trouble he cannot handle."

There was a murmur of agreement. After that, things went by slowly and with boredom. Severus ignored most of it and instead kept his attention on trying _not_ to notice Remus still there, chatting to McGonagall. They were friends, it turned out. Severus rather wished one of the _other_ professors was talking to him because just hearing Remus' calm voice made him feel so _cold_ inside.

Finally, Severus was able to leave. He gave McGonagall a curt farewell and then left without another word to anyone else. The return to the manor was sidetracked as Severus wandered Hogsmeade, letting himself calm. He'd managed to avoid Remus for so long and now, to have the man suddenly in front of him again... He shuddered and then worked on controlling his breathing and heart beat.

He could do this. He could survive this. Even if Remus would be so near him, even if they might spend the moons together, he would survive this somehow and stay intact. Remus had obviously moved on from their relationship. Severus would do the same.

Somehow.

He hated how weak that resolution felt.

**Chapter 6**

**But It's Worse In The Day**

Harry and Draco were both rather excited about starting school. Severus did his best to keep his unease to himself in the last days of summer. His temper became even shorter, but it was Malfoy who tended to get the worst of it and Malfoy definitely didn't take the attitude well. He cornered Severus more often, almost as if he were staking more of a claim. Or putting a pet in its place. Severus really didn't know which was more accurate.

A week before the first, Severus and Harry moved into Hogwarts. It was strange, returning to his rooms in the dungeon. The cool damp was comforting in a way but another reminder of the uncontrolled change that seemed continuous in his life. Someday, he would rid himself of all these ties.

Severus paused that thought and glanced at Harry, who was setting up things in the spare room for his temporary stay there. Well, perhaps not _all_ ties.

The next days were tedious and aggravating. Severus got the classroom ready to his liking, reorganized the ingredients room, stocked up on anything still missing, and generally just readied himself. However, his cool continence was hard to keep up when he came face to face with Remus Lupin at least three times a day. Severus was barely able to keep himself quietly disdainful, especially in the face of Remus' lack of pain. Whatever they'd shared, it was obvious to Severus now that Remus was long past over it. And that just made him angry, another thing to keep to himself lest Remus wonder why that was.

Harry wandered the castle through the days. He was avoiding Severus quite spectacularly, actually. Severus didn't fault him but he did feel rather bereft without the boy's company. He hoped someday Harry _would_ forgive him, but he didn't expect it. Not after a betrayal like this.

At the end of August, Severus was finished with his preparations. He left his rooms and stepped outside, taking in the heat of outside as if it might burn away his unease. What did he have to be uneasy about, anyway? He was away from Malfoy. Hogwarts was the first place he'd ever felt comfortable or safe. And he certainly wasn't worried about the students. After years with children taught Dark Arts directly by competent teachers, Hogwarts students would be simple. It would be nice to teach in his native language again as well, and to lack hearing children speak in a dizzying array of languages, half of them mashed together in the bi- and trilingual babble that permeated the upper years.

But he still didn't feel right. His skin itched and his nerves were shot. Where was Koenig and his nasty humor to calm him? Or Popovic with his irreverent cheer? Or, if he were honest with himself, Cissienia and her quiet presence. Even Novak and his grouchy scowl would be a godsend. In all ways that counted, Severus was alone and it hit him harder than ever.

He wondered if Remus had found a new lover. Then he berated himself for trying to make things worse.

As the sun began to set, Severus found himself along the bank of the late, staring over the reflection of the sun on the calm waters. The squid seemed to be sleeping for now and little disturbed the surface. Severus wondered if this was what life was, a calm surface hiding the life and chaos underneath it... It was rather stupid, getting poetic, but he often found his thoughts falling this way in the last years. Perhaps Lily had made him a romantic. Or Remus, for that matter. Maybe even Cissienia and Harry.

"Severus?"

He jerked his head, glaring towards the owner of a voice he knew better than his own as tension ran rampant through his body. Remus lifted a brow and then gave him one of those empty, soft smiles.

"You looked worried. Anxious about tomorrow?"

"Not at all." Severus looked back over the lake, refusing to give the other man any more notice than he had to. It hurt just to _look_ at him. Severus folded his arms over his chest, hands tight in his dark sleeves as if to keep tight hold of his own emotions, lest they betray him.

"Ah. You always have been so calm." Remus stepped up beside him and looked at the lake as well as the light slowly faded. "I'm nervous every year. It's only been three, but it still gets me, the night before the kids arrive."

"Forgive me, Lupin, but why _exactly_ do you feel the need to gush your inane insecurities to me?" Severus sneered out with as much disgust as he could manage. Remus looked at him for a moment and then smiled again.

"We were friends once. I thought we might be friends again."

"Unacceptable. I have no intention of furthering any _connection_ with you at all, Lupin."

Remus still looked at him. Severus wondered what, exactly, was going through his head. Hurt? Anger? He dared not use legilimency. It didn't seem right. Nor ethical. Nor... survivable, actually. If he went into Remus' mind, Severus wasn't sure he'd ever leave it.

"Durmstrang made you rather nasty, Severus," Remus murmured quietly.

"I doubt I've changed as much as you think I have."

"Oh. You've changed, Severus. Trust me."

"I would rather cut off my own right hand," Severus sneered back.

Remus chuckled. He smiled with a hint of self-depreciation, then turned and began back to the school. It took everything Severus had not to turn and call him back. Everything not to end the charade that was keeping Remus Lupin alive.

"Oh..." Remus paused but Severus didn't look. "I wanted to give you my condolences."

"What are you babbling about now?"

"You aren't wearing a ring."

Severus frowned with confusion and finally looked back at the man. "What?"

"Your ladylove from before. You aren't wearing a ring."

For a few moments, Severus was still confused, not connecting the two statements at all. And then it became suddenly clear as he remembered and scowled.

"She's taken up with another man, two years ago. Married. I dare say she's happy now."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be." Severus looked back at the water. "I don't want your pity."

"It isn't pity." He heard Remus take a step towards him but then stop and go no further. "I... I genuinely hoped things would go well for you, Severus. With her."

"They have. I want for nothing. Leave it at that and leave me be, Lupin."

Severus listened as the seconds passed and Remus didn't move. He had a half fear that Remus would come closer and he wasn't sure he'd be able to control himself if he did. Finally, he heard the other man give a faint, bitter chuckle.

"Maybe you haven't changed," Remus said so softly Severus nearly didn't hear it. Before he could ponder it longer, Remus left him as he'd demanded and Severus felt again the cold emptiness in his chest. Merlin, Remus had gone on, why couldn't he? Then again, why couldn't he leave Lily's memory behind either? It seemed he collected hopeless, unforgettable loves. What a hopeless man he was.

Severus finally returned to the castle as true darkness fell over it. When he got there, Harry was already holed up in his room with the door shut. He and Severus had an agreement about doors that stretched from when Harry had been seven and had a habit of interrupting showers with questions he'd thought up. A closed door was to be left closed. An open one was invitation. Severus stared at the closed door for a long time and wondered, idly, if Harry would ever open it to him again.

He slept badly. Thankfully, the next day held little for him to do. He rested, read, looking over the classroom and storeroom one last time, and generally avoided stress as much as he could. Harry abandoned him once again to continue exploring the school, clad in his school robes. Filch came at three in the afternoon to complain to Severus about him but Severus had little patience for it. He told the man to bugger off and leave the boy to do what he wanted as long as he didn't break anything. Then he slammed the door in his face and felt rather better at the abrupt noise. After, he returned to his reading.

The students arrived in the evening and it was raining something fierce. He stood outside the doors to the Great Hall with Harry beside him, waiting. The bedraggled students began pouring in finally. These were the older ones, who arrived in distinct groups of cheerful or tired lots and filed into the Great Hall. Severus cast drying charms, as did McGonagall on the other side so that no one slipped nor would they freeze as they waited for the new first years. He recognized none of them, of course. A fully new batch of minds, perhaps with a few he might bully into greatness. Once they were in their places inside, Severus took a breath.

"Harry," he said quietly. The boy beside him glanced up and Severus hesitated a moment before continuing. "If you wish to keep our... our adopted connection a secret, you may. No one outside the teaching staff knows and they will not reveal you. However... It is your decision if you tell whatever friends you may make."

Harry swallowed, staring at him a moment, then looked away. "Okay."

McGonagall was watching them. Severus rather hated the weight of her gaze suddenly, so he merely watched Harry in turn. Surely, there was something else he should say. Something... comforting. Or uplifting. But he could think of nothing.

"...Enjoy the sorting," he murmured finally and then left into the Great Hall without waiting for a response. The doors shut behind him as Severus strode to the teacher's table at the other end of the Hall. Students stared at him with a bit of trepidation and confusion, and there were mutters when he took his seat. This was where Slughorn had been for years and now it was where Severus would remain at least as long as Draco was in school. It was... not quite _comforting_ to have that much stability, but close. It was _something_ to hold onto, especially since he was two seats away from Remus, who chatted amiably with a cheery Sprout.

Severus folded his arms as he sat back in his chair and swept a narrow eyed gaze over the students. More than Durmstrang. It would be harder, but he'd done it once. He'd do it again. He might even gain a fellowship with the other teachers as he'd done at the other school. Still, at the moment, he felt so lacking in companionship that he wouldn't even care if _Flitwick_ happened to befriend him. The man's insufferable cheer would have to do, since Koenig, Popovic, Novak, and Cissienia were out of reach.

He glanced down the table, eying each teacher in turn. His gaze lingered on Remus a few seconds longer but he finally wrenched it from him to continue on. The other side held only Quirrel, who was so incompetently negligible that Severus balked at the idea that he might have to look deeper into _that_ particular well of ineptitude. The man nearly _disgusted_ him, with his stuttering and easy to rile shock. The first day had been amusing, seeing Quirrel jump when he happened to mask the sound of his own steps and sneak up on the man, but that lost its appeal quickly, considering that the shocked fright was quite real and that even tiny incidences rendered Quirrel rather inconsolable. Half terrified of his subject as he was, Severus wondered how _anyone_ expected this man to get the job done.

However, there was little importance in Quirrel. Severus left the man from his thoughts and turned back to watching the students. Any minute now, the first years would arrive to be shorted. _Harry_ would be sorted. Severus wondered how it would go. Certainly Slytherin. The boy was sneaky and more clever by half. He was also a decent liar and that happened to be one of the most important skills a Slytherin would ever come to need. Wouldn't _that_ make James Potter roll in his gave? Severus might have laughed, if that thought was funny. But it wasn't and Severus wondered suddenly when causing James Potter's ire had stopped being a pleasing idea.

**Chapter 7**

**So Will You Protect Me**

Harry was nervous. Scratch that. Harry was _petrified_. Before this, he'd never had the fear that he might not be _good enough_ for anything, but Hogwarts had a house system and he'd be placed where he was most suited, or where he'd do the least damage. He was terrified he'd end up a Hufflepuff and then his fa- _Severus_ would hate him forever. Draco had told him about Hufflepuffs. They were stupid, too nice, and too trusting and _definitely_ not what Severus Snape wanted in a son- _ward_.

He might have been unsure of how to deal with Severus anymore, or even what to think of the man, but he didn't want Severus to hate him.

To tell the truth, Severus lying to him wasn't really what bothered him so much. It didn't really matter what his real name was or the past attached to it. The fact that he wasn't Severus' real son was what blindsided him so badly. All his life, he'd never doubted Severus being his father, even before the man let him call him by that name. It was the most steady thing he had and losing it now, especially with everything else that came with new identity... Harry had been angry at being left so bereft.

He wasn't angry now. He was awkward and scared and more than a little bit lost one what he was suppose to do about Severus. He wished the man would talk to him, but Severus seemed as lost on where to go from there as he was. It gave little comfort to think that.

Harry straightened when he heard the front doors open and students clatter inside. He quickly moved over to McGonagall's side and she glanced at him with a lifted brow. The students were wet and dripping with rain, a few more miserable than the rest. Harry looked through them to try and find Draco but didn't see him. He knew the blond was there, but _where_...?

A red haired boy suddenly bumbled into him. Harry barely kept them from crashing to the floor or into McGonagall. He grabbed the boy by the arms to steady him and then big brown eyes set on him.

"Jeez, thanks mate. Sorry about that."

"No problem," Harry responded. The boy straightened and tugged at his robes a little, glancing at him after.

"I'm Ron Weasley, by the way."

"Harry."

"Nice to meet you." Ron stuck out his hand and Harry shook it, eyes drawn to the multitude of freckles dotting Ron's tanned skin. He wondered if he might be able to count them all someday but doubted it.

"How come you aren't wet?" Ron asked with a blink as he noticed. "Parents put a rain-proofing charm on you?"

"Oh. No, I didn't come on the train," Harry replied with a bit of awkwardness. He wasn't used to this. "My father-... My caretaker works here."

Ron gave him an odd look at the mix up. "Well, which is it? Your dad or some other person?"

Harry chewed his lip. "He's my caretaker. I'm adopted."

"Ah." Ron hesitated. "Is he nice?"

"Yeah. Mostly."

"Well, that's good at least."

Ron sounded rather awkward too. It comforted Harry a little. He ended up mentioning something about Quidditch and found out Ron was _really_ into it, so they chatted about it as McGonagall moved away from them, ducking inside the Great Hall for something. Ron was easy to talk to when the subject was light. Harry liked that and he decided he rather liked Ron too. Maybe they'd be in the same house.

"_Harry!_ What are you talking to _him_ for? That's a Weasley for sure."

Harry blinked and looked over as Ron reddened. Draco looked at the two of them with a brow lifted and his lips twisted unhappily. "Oh. Hi Draco."

"Hello, Harry. Come along then. There's no reason to mix with _that_ sort," Draco drawled and Harry frowned.

"What sort?"

"_Weasleys_," Draco continued with a sneer. "Bottom rung of wizards, that lot-"

"Shut _up!_" Ron snarled out. "Who do you think you are?!"

"Draco Malfoy of course," the blond replied.

"A Malfoy. I should have known." Ron was getting redder, all the way to his ears. "_Your_ lot are the bad ones! All Death Eaters and dark wizards!"

Draco snorted. "I think not. At least we're better off than _yours_, with more children than they can possibly feed!"

Ron looked just about to hit him. Harry, for his part, was rather shocked by what Draco had said. How could he say something like that about someone else's family? Before the two could come to blows, Harry stepped into the middle of them, hands lifted.

"Come on, you two. We don't have to fight-"

"You're defending him?!"

"Who's side are you on?!"

Harry sighed a bit at the nearly chorused words. He frowned at both of them in turn.

"Look. I don't know _why_ you two hate each other on principle but _I'm_ not going to stand for it. So shake hands, forgive and forget, or leave me out of it. Okay?"

Ron looked mutinous, as if Harry had said something that wasn't even possible, let along thinkable. Draco just seemed rather perturbed.

"Oh, very well, Harry. For now. Honestly, it isn't as if we'll end up in the same house as a _Weasley_ anyway," he drawled.

"Like Gryffindor would ever let you in!" Ron snarled back.

"Likewise," Draco replied. Harry could see the beginnings of another fight but they were saved by McGonagall coming back out. She introduced herself and had them line up, explaining what was to happen. Harry already knew, of course. He'd asked her earlier, since he was still uneasy with Severus, and she'd been happy enough explain.

The line of first years strode into the Great Hall. All eyes were on them. The older students intimidated Harry a bit. He watched them watch him and stood a little straighter, trying to not notice. Maybe these people would be like the Durmstrang ones. Cibor had told him that older kids tended to pick on you. It was to make you stronger, so that the weak ones got weeded out and the strong ones showed themselves up. Harry didn't much like that idea, but he could understand it, a little. Besides, Cibor had promised to help him out when he started school. And now he didn't even have that, since Cibor was at Durmstrang. He wondered if Cibor would keep writing him, even if they were at different schools now.

McGonagall called various names. Harry listened to them because it was easier than looking at the head table and noticing his fath-_Severus'_ eyes on him. "Abbott, Hannah" became a Hufflepuff. "Boot, Terry," became a Ravenclaw. "Crabbe, Vincent" became a Slytherin. "Finnigan, Seamus" became a Gryffindor. "Finch-Fletchley, Justin" became a Hufflepuff. "Goyle, Gregory" became a Slytherin. "Granger, Hermione," became a Gryffindor. "Longbottom, Neville" became a Gryffindor. "Macmillan, Ernie" became a Hufflepuff.

Draco was called up next. Harry paid special attention as the blond sat down and the hat was placed over his head. Barely a moment later, it chimed out a strong, "_SLYTHERIN!" _and sent Draco strutting to the table of green and silver as if he were a prince. Harry swallowed. He was coming soon. Just a few more names. He listened well, just to make sure he didn't make a fool of himself when he was called.

"Potter, Harry."

For a moment, Harry didn't recognize the name. He wasn't sure why he'd been expecting "Snape, Johnathan" but Potter made him almost flinch. Especially when the entire room went absolutely silent and still. Harry took a breath and then stepped out of line to walk towards the hat. There were sudden whispers, older students and first years alike staring and pointing. Harry hated the attention. He glanced towards Severus at the head table as if to gain strength from him. Whatever awkwardness there still was, Severus always made sure things were okay. He stared back at Harry and then slowly nodded his head. He was with him. Harry felt a stitch of tension leave him and he sat down.

The hat fell too far on his head, like the rest. It was suddenly dark and he felt a moment of panic before a voice began to speak to him.

"Oh. I know _you_," said the hat quite clearly. Harry stiffened. "What a difficult choice _you're_ making your self. Enough brains for Ravenclaw, but such a peacemaker you seem to be. Very Hufflepuff."

"_Not Hufflepuff_," Harry whispered faintly with terror. _Anything_ but Hufflepuff.

"I suppose not," the hat continued after a moment. "Lets look deeper, shall we?"

Harry didn't _feel_ anything, but it seemed as if the hat might be rooting around in his brain like Severus had said some people could.

"Lots of bravery, I see. Willing to risk your friends' anger to keep things going well. Very Gryffindor of you."

Harry wondered if Severus might get mad at him being a Gryffindor. Severus had said that his parents were both Gryffindors and he liked his mother, so maybe that would be okay?

"Ah, but such a cleverness I see in you! Perhaps even a mite of ambition. You could go on to do _great_ things in Slytherin."

Funny. "Great things" was what the wand master had said he could do. He felt a little shiver at that. Maybe he didn't _want_ to do "great things". He just wanted to be _Harry_.

"Just Harry, hm? Such a quandary. Such _trouble_ you youngsters make for me, being well suited to so many places. Well... I suppose I shall have to say..._GRYFFINDOR!_"

Harry tugged off the hat and stood. He glanced back at the table and paled when he saw the sudden shock in Severus' face. No one else seemed to notice but it chilled Harry to the core. He wondered if there was some way to reverse what the hat had said. He should have fought for Slytherin, but he'd been so scared and now... McGonagall gave him a little shove as the table in gold and red cheered him on. He sat down with them and an older red haired boy who looked quite a bit like Ron reached over to ruffle his hair as he greeted him boisterously, chorused by another redhead who looked exactly like him, right down to the shaggy hair. It helped curb some of the angst gripping him, at least, even if he was again made awkward when some kid yelled out, "We got Potter! We got Potter!"

Another name was called by then and Harry managed to get the courage to look over towards the Slytherins. Draco was stared at him as if he'd been completely and utterly betrayed. Harry swallowed thickly and hoped Draco would forgive him for getting put somewhere else. Maybe as soon as his fath- as soon as Severus did too.

**Chapter 8**

**From The Things Unseen**

Harry was miserable. He hid it well, just as Severus had taught him to over the years, so the Gryffindors didn't realize just how unhappy he was to be with them. Ron Weasley sat at his side with a frizzy haired girl Harry hadn't caught the name of. He chatted about this and that, but his eyes kept sliding up to Harry's forehead and the scar hidden under his messy hair. There had been requests to see the scar and Harry had obligingly rucked up his hair to show it, though he was getting a bit grumpy about it by the sixth time.

Ron and the frizzy haired girl picked at each other all through dinner. It was irritating, but at least the older redheads, who were apparently Ron's older twin brothers, kept things lively. It didn't help the headache Harry developed soon after the sorting that persisted through the meal. Pain throbbed behind his scar, as if the mark were causing it. He rubbed it to try and relieve some of the ache but it refused to be alleviated. Maybe Fath- _Severus_ could give him something for it... But Harry knew he wouldn't be able to ask him. He'd barely spoken two words to the man. Harry let his gaze fall to the head table. Severus still looked bothered as he stared muttered something to the woman beside him. Harry could tell it easily, reading the bunch in his brows and the hard edge to his lips. Most people couldn't tell, but Harry had been figuring out what Severus felt by sight for years, since he'd never tell anyone. He was so very private... And Harry supposed he would be too, if he'd lied about being a father for so long. Harry winced at his own thoughts, he stared at his plate, pushing food about while trying to pretend he was eating.

By the time dinner was over, the headache had lessened some but still ached in time with his heartbeat. Harry got up, following the trail of sleepy and full-bellied first years. He glanced at the head table again, but Severus was already gone. One teacher caught his eye and smiled, giving him a little wave. Harry wasn't sure what to think of Professor Lupin. He claimed that he'd know Harry when he was much younger but Harry didn't remember. Severus had confirmed it, even showed him a picture of the three of them when Harry was about three. It was still strange, though. Professor Lupin was nice enough, the few times Harry had come across him in the time before start of term, but Harry had noticed right off that Severus never relaxed in his presence. He was always on guard, always more careful, even less overly emotional... It set Harry on edge as well, despite Professor Lupin's soft voice and apparently gentle nature.

Still, it would have been rude not to wave back. Professor Lupin brightened a little and then went on as well while Harry followed the Prefect.

Harry slept fitfully. He woke tired and cranky and his head still didn't feel right. But there was the promise of food as he and the other boys got ready for the day and that was enough to brighten him. At least a little. He followed Ron, bumbled into the frizzy haired girl - who finally introduced herself as Hermione Granger when she realized Harry had no idea who she was - and finally managed to get to the Great Hall. Many students stopped to stare at him as he came in. Harry ducked closer to Ron, head down as he tried to ignore the stares. He glanced at the head table but his fath- but _Severus_ wasn't there. Professor Lupin was and he smiled a greeting. Harry gave him a little wave in response. Just as Harry made to sit down, a hand grabbed his arm. He looked up, bewildered, and then blanched when he met Draco's face.

"You don't belong over here," Draco said firmly. There were two bigger boys behind him and Harry recognized them easily from description alone. Crabbe and Goyle looked about as stupid as they looked strong. Crabbe had the stare of a bored cow while Goyle looked like a blank slate, waiting for some kind of sign as to what he was suppose to do. Harry looked back at Draco.

"Let go of him, Malfoy," Ron warned from Harry's side. Draco gave him a sneer and a dirty look.

"This is none of _your_ concern, Weasley."

"He's _my_ housemate! Of course it's my concern!"

Harry glanced between them, eyes wide. What was he suppose to do here?! Behind them, more Gryffindors saw what was going on and started to stand up. Harry might have been happy for the house loyalty if he wasn't so conflicted on what to do. Draco was his best friend in the world, but he didn't want to alienate his entire house! They were the ones he had to sleep with at night!

"Come _on_, Harry," Draco stressed. Harry could see him looking over as bigger boys got up from the Gryffindor table. If it was one thing Gryffindors did best, it was showing a united front.

"Draco," Harry started weakly but he didn't know how to finish. Draco stared at him, half betrayed that he wasn't going along with him immediately.

"Back _off_, Malfoy," one of the twins menaced from behind.

"Yeah, before we practice a few lessons on you."

"We just figured out how to turn rats into rope. And all I see-"

"-Is a rat with an attitude."

Draco grit his teeth. Harry felt his fingers loosen and then swallowed thickly when the blond looked at him again. The look said everything. _How could you? Why are you betraying me? Aren't I your friend? How could you?_

"Guys, stop," Harry said finally. Draco let go with a stricken look in his eyes but Harry caught his wrist as he turned to look at his housemates. "It's okay. Draco's my friend. So... I think I'll have breakfast with him. But I'll be here for lunch. Is that okay?"

"Okay? He's a _Slytherin!_" Ron yelled, outraged. "And a _Malfoy!_"

"Stuff it, Weasel, _I win_," growled Draco. Ron reddened and Harry thought he might go after him just for that. So he put himself between them and pressed a hand to the middle of Ron's chest.

"Both of you, stop it. You don't have to be so _rude_. Don't you have any manners?"

"He's the one that-" Ron started, just as Draco snarled out, "Why should I care about some peasant-"

"If you don't quit, I'll go sit with Hufflepuff instead," Harry growled, cutting them both off with a sharp look. Draco was instantly scandalized while Ron just looked offended.

"Gee, Harry, you're so-"

"Commanding! What a dream boat!"

Harry gave the twins a grumpy look while they snorted, the slight against them apparently forgotten. This was _not_ how he wanted to start the day. And his head was hurting all over again.

Hermione piped up suddenly in the lull, hand on Ron's shoulder. "Look, guys, what's wrong with having a friend in another house? As long as he can be civil, _I_ don't see a problem."

"Another house? Harry's a Slytherin," Draco insisted as he turned his hand in Harry's grip and jerked him. Harry stumbled a step before righting himself. "That stupid hat just got it wrong."

"You're just jealous we got him!" Ron snarled back. Behind him, the twins just looked amused while Crabbe and Goyle glanced at each other and wondered what they were suppose to be doing.

"At least I don't see him like some kind of _trophy_," Draco sneered, lip curling. "Or some kind of _dog_ to be shown off."

"We do _not!"_ Ron looked almost stricken for a moment before anger reddened his face. "You don't know anything!"

Harry wasn't sure what exactly he was expecting out of all this. He stared at Draco, holding firm in the apparent righteousness he was feeling, then saw movement out of the corner of his eye. Harry didn't think. He shoved Draco suddenly, taking a step, and then Ron's fist smashed into his own face. Harry's body twisted with the force and he lost his footing, heading for the floor. He heard an angry yell from Draco just as his shoulder hit the floor, then it seemed like everyone was yelling and he felt the buzz of magic in his ears.

His nose was a blast of pain and he whimpered when he touched it, feeling sticky blood running down his face. Hell. Ron'd broken his nose. He wasn't really angry so much as _disappointed_. Ron was nice to talk to, but Harry wasn't about to give up Draco for him. He'd hoped maybe they could all be friends... How stupid was that? It was that thought more than pain that kept him on the floor until he felt larger hands grab his shoulder and turn him onto his back.

"Harry," Severus murmured in a hurried tone. Harry stared at him, taking in the anger and worry in his dark eyes. "Are you all right?"

"By dose," Harry groaned out with an injury induced lisp. Severus frowned deeper and then pulled him up to his feet.

"Come on," he murmured, hand on his shoulder in a firm grip as he lead Harry out after grabbing his book bag. Behind them, Professor Lupin was talking to the Gryffindors and gathered Slytherins with a disappointed look on his face. Harry didn't see much before the Great Hall doors shut behind them.

Madam Pomfrey was not happy to treat an injury on the first day of classes and she made Harry understand in a long lecture as she fixed his nose - which hurt - and cleaned up the blood. Harry's face felt sore and stuffy after but he didn't dare complain about it. And Severus stood near by the whole time.

"Severus, you'd better reign your boy in," Pomfrey snapped at him and Harry instantly felt ten times worse. He stared at his lap as the woman headed back to her office. He didn't dare look his fath- _Severus_ in the eye.

"Well," the older man murmured quietly. "_That_ was eventful."

Harry's lips quirked into an uneasy smile before he could stop them. "Sorry. I didn't mean for that... Sorry."

"Harry, you're not in trouble." Severus drew nearer and rested his hand on Harry's shoulder again. "As far as I could see, you were doing your best to resolve whatever petty argument was in the making. I can hardly find fault with that. Mr. Weasley on the other hand..."

"It's not Ron's fault!!" Harry immediately piped up, jerking his head back to stare up at his fath- caretaker. "He was just... Just being protective!"

Severus gave him an odd look. "And he's the one that broke your nose. He'll serve detention for striking another student, regardless of the reasons."

Harry looked down, hands fisted in his lap. Now Ron would _hate_ him. And he _liked_ Ron...

"Is it because I got sorted into Gryffindor?" he whispered and then wished he hadn't. Severus went quiet. His fingers twitched on Harry's shoulder. And then he sighed.

"Harry," he murmured more softly. "I'm not angry at you for the sorting. And no, this has nothing to do with that, though it will be difficult for you to reconcile your friendship with Draco and the loyalty to your house that will grow as time goes on. I doubt even Draco is angry at you for the sorting."

Harry swallowed thickly and nodded but he didn't trust his voice. After a few moments, Severus let go.

"You may come to speak with me anytime you wish, if you'd like," he offered. "But now it is time for classes. Do not be late."

Harry got up from the cot. He glanced at Severus, making sure the man wasn't angry with him, then grabbed his book bag and left the infirmary. A bit of unease unwhirled in his chest. Severus wasn't angry... and from what happened, Draco still wanted to talk to him. He felt better, even if things weren't quite right yet.


	3. Chapters 9 through 12

**The Other Side of An Unbalanced Destiny**

**Rating**: NC17 (M on FF.N)

**Pairings**: RL/SS, LM/SS

**Warnings**: Slash/Yaoi, Angst, Violence, Werewolf!Snape

**Notes**: There will be only vague reliance on the normal timeline for this story. Sequel to the Other Side of the Mirror and The Other Side of Normal. Chapters of this story are posted on Adultfanfiction(dot)net daily. As sex or violence show up, it will be edited out to be posted here. Feel free to follow both versions.

**Chapter 9**

**Or From Monsters and Goblins**

Severus was not so much angry but livid. Not hours into term, hours after revealing who Harry was, and someone had already taken a shot at him. Granted, it had been accidental, but he was still angry. And what better way of getting over anger than taking it out on on annoyingly young nuisances?

Of course, it just so happened that Harry was in his first class. Severus thought about the warnings Dumbledore had given him only days before. That he had a part to play and though the teachers were well aware of his connection with Harry, the students were to remain oblivious. Severus rather hated being told what to do. And he had no intention of going along with the unsaid suggestion that he try to show his 'true' loyalties by singling Harry out in class. Dumbledore could go hang himself for all he cared if he got angry about it. Severus knew Harry was knowledgeable in Potions, even if he wasn't all that interested, and he wasn't about to stifle that to soothe Dumbledore's paranoia.

So, when he made his grand entrance into his classroom, watching students jump and pale at the loud _bang_ the door made closing behind him, he decided the best way to go about this was to figure out just how stupid these children were and who might need the most... _ attention._

His opening speech was not quite verbose, but he knew he was losing them. He wasn't surprised. Actually, the only ones who seemed to be paying any attention were Harry, a frizzy haired girl next to him, and a few select Slytherins, Draco included. The rest had the glazed look of idiotic bovine. Severus decided it was time to make his point.

He called upon one of them at random, had her stand and state her name, and then proceeded to grill the child on things she _might_ have known if she'd actually opened his potions book at all before class began. No such luck. The girl grew paler and paler, shaking faintly as others looked on with sympathy. Well. Perhaps this would teach them to be _prepared!_

Except the girl next to Harry had her hand up and was waving it around as if she were having a fit. Severus ignored her and called on another student, embarrassing him as fully. The girl still had her hand up and an annoying, pinched look on her face. When Severus ignored her again, the brat had the audacity to stand and give him all the answers he'd been looking for.

He gave her a very unkind look. Did she not realize that he was making a _point?!_ He then proceeded to tell her in no uncertain terms that she was to wait until called upon or he would throw her out of the classroom with an automatic failure for the day, _is that clear, Miss Granger?_

The way she crumpled in on herself _might_ have soothed him if not for the look on Harry's face. The boy looked shocked, staring at him as if he'd grown a second head and turned into a hideous monster. Severus' enjoyment abruptly evaporated and it didn't come back even after the first years filed out of his classroom in various states of horror and discontent. Harry paused at the door and looked back at him for a moment, confused and bothered, then followed the wet eyed girl out along with their Weasley companion.

Severus wasn't sure what had happened. Surely, Harry knew he had to be strict in the classroom to maintain order? And potions work was dangerous enough that it _needed_ order! But those thoughts didn't comfort him. Things were strained enough between the two of them that he worried if this might break it all completely.

The rest of the classes for the day were thoroughly terrorized and disheartened. Severus thought of it as a wake up call for them. They were not here to play. They were here to learn and train to become fully realized wizards. Did these idiots not realize how lucky they were to get proper schooling? With only three wizarding schools in Europe and all of them only admitting the smallest amount of students per year, it wasn't as if even _half_ the magical children of the world got to attend. Only those who could afford tuition on their own or had the sheer magical reserves to catch attention managed.

Severus leaned back against his desk and racked a hand back through his hair. He tried just to be angry with these idiot children, but all he could think of was the way Harry had looked at him. As if he'd transformed before his eyes into something horrible.

He left the classroom after he'd gotten the last tasks of the day over with. Then he went outside. A few students ducked out of his path when they spotted him and he gave them nasty looks in response. Once he was outside, a bit of tension uncurled in his chest. He walked slowly, letting the evening air soothe him. Harry would understand. He knew from Durmstrang that many stern teachers could be relatively kind when they weren't on duty, so to speak. Severus thought of Koenig and then sighed a little, once more feeling the sting of absence. How long would it be until lacking his colleagues didn't pain him...?

Footsteps. Severus paused as he immediately analyzed the sound. Too heavy to be a kid. Sixth or seventh year perhaps, or a teacher- Then the wind changed and he caught the scent. _Damn it_.

"Oh, hello, Severus!"

Severus turned and gave Lupin a hard look. "Lupin. The potion will be to you this evening."

"I do appreciate that," Lupin murmured with a soft smile. Severus hated the way it still made his heart speed. "But that wasn't what I wanted to talk to you about."

"I can think of nothing we have to discuss." With that, Severus turned on his heel and began a march back to the school. Lupin didn't let him get too far. He grabbed Severus' arm, halting him.

"Severus, _please," _he insisted quietly. "We're going to have to spend full moons together. You could at least be _civil_. We're pa-...we're...colleagues."

Severus stopped at the drop in Lupin's voice as he fumbled. He grit his teeth. Damn it.

Behind him, Lupin uttered a quiet sigh and let go. "...I'm sorry. I know you don't much care for my company..."

"You would be correct," Severus grumbled unnecessarily. It was more for his benefit than Lupin's. The more times he could say it, the more real it might eventually become.

"...Severus... What we had.." Lupin hesitated and Severus hated the way his heart leapt. "It might be gone, but... Can't we be friends once more? Don't I deserve _that_ much effort?"

Severus closed his eyes. God_damn_it. No. No, he couldn't give even that much because he knew if he had even the slightest shred of chance, he'd take it and he didn't think Lupin would let him go after. That wasn't who Remus was. So he couldn't let the chance come. He couldn't allow the possibility. Not while Malfoy's hold on him was so very strong...

"I don't want to be friends," he said at last. He managed two steps for the school before Lupin's quiet voice stopped him.

"You're lying," the other man said so very softly. Severus turned and glared at him with anger he didn't feel.

"Who are you to tell me that?" he snarled.

Lupin just looked at him, open and gentle. "It's your scent. This close to the moon, I can smell it on you easily, just like you can scent me."

"Then your sense is _wrong_," Severus growled. He left Lupin then, disappearing to his private lab to get the thrice damned Wolfsbane potion completed. But first, he had to calm. Handling wolfsbane was dangerous for him on any day but angry? He was more likely to poison himself than anything and he didn't have the time for that. So Severus threw up a shielding spell around his attached office and spent a good half hour hurling insults and threats at Lucius Malfoy until he felt stable enough to get to the potion.

A few hours later, he sent a goblet with a house elf to Lupin and poured his own portion. He was about to drink when a quiet alarm went off, signaling someone had entered his office. Severus knew only Dumbledore and Harry had the password, other than himself, so he wasn't worried. And since there wasn't an immediate call of his name, he knew it to be the latter.

"Oh-..I.... I didn't mean to interrupt..." Harry murmured from the doorway to the lab. He looked at the steaming goblet in Severus' hand and then to his face. His own paled. "Are you sick again?"

Severus nodded as he leaned against his workbench and drank down half the goblet in one go. He winced at the taste but there was little he could do about it. "I'll be all right. Is there something you need?"

Harry hesitated. He looked at the goblet again. "Are you going to get sicker? Like usual?"

"That is very likely." Severus watched him, wondering what had brought Harry to him but wasn't so urgent to be discussed immediately. "But as always, I will be fine."

"Will it go away?" Harry had never been so curious about his 'illness' before.

"No." Severus finished the rest of the potion and set down the used goblet. "No. It's permanent."

Harry wrung his hands in front of him, leaning against the door frame. "Will it... will it kill you?"

"...What exactly has prompted this concern?" Severus asked, brow raised. Harry dropped his head.

"...I thought... I thought maybe something was bothering you today."

"Because of what happened in class?" When Harry nodded hesitantly, Severus sighed a little. He moved from the work table and started towards the office, pausing to take Harry's shoulder and urge him to follow. The boy did, still bothered and uncertain. Severus sat down behind his desk and folded his hands. Harry stayed standing, shifting weight from one foot to the other.

"Harry, I am not a kind man," he began. Harry looked at him, frowning, and almost spoke up against that but Severus didn't give him time. "Regardless of your experiences with me, when I am in my classroom, I am not kind. I am not considerate. I am the _law_. Do you understand that?"

The boy was still frowning but he nodded slowly, not quite sure.

"Potions is too dangerous a subject to let students run wild. Even in _your_ class, as a first year, it would be simple for someone to poison themselves, burn their skin off, blind themselves... Any number of things. It is therefore imperative that I keep iron control in my classroom."

Harry mumbled something. When Severus lifted his brow and stared at him expectantly, he repeated a little louder, "Professor Quirrel doesn't."

"Then Professor Quirrel is a fool for his subject is as potentially dangerous as my own," Severus said definitively, almost amused at Harry's shocked look that he'd openly insult another teacher. "Harry, I know I am not your only strict teacher. Have you had transfiguration yet?"

"No," Harry admitted.

"You'll find Professor McGonagall is similarly strict." Severus sighed a little. "I apologize if I disappointed you in class today, but I will be no less harsh with you than I am with any other student. I expect you to perform to your best abilities."

Harry hesitated a little, then nodded. "Okay.. I'll do my best."

"I know you will."Severus rose. "Now then, I know for a fact you have homework to do."

Harry flushed with an unexcited positive mumble. He glanced at Severus, as if there were something he wanted to bring up, but he didn't. Instead, he let Severus walk him to the door to the hall and then left for his dorm. Severus watched him disappear down the hall, then tugged the door shut again. Dodged the bullet again, but how long could he wait to tell Harry what he was and explain his strange sickness..? He sighed, raking a hand back through his hair. He'd wait as long as he could. He just hoped Lupin was discrete enough that Harry didn't realize they were both afflicted similarly...

As he laid himself down that evening, he thought about the feel of Lupin's fingers around his forearm. He hadn't thought the man's touch would still affect him this way. He closed his eyes, curling on his side as he held himself. He tried to think about the fact that Harry had at least _spoken_ to him today, and in relatively full sentences, but his mind kept falling to Lupin. Friends? He couldn't be friends with Lupin, not when he still ached for him so fully. Malfoy would never be able to burn that out of him.

Severus fell asleep with the mirage of Remus' lips against his ear and soft voice soothing him into rest.

**Chapter 10**

**And Terrible Foes**

As far as weeks went, the first week of term was always bad no matter what school he taught at. The students grated heavily on his nerves, especially a short pureblood Gryffindor who always managed to blow up his caldron and the entire Hufflepuff house was a loss. He had _one_ in his advanced sixth year class and two in the seventh year, but none of them showed true promise. Besides, they were all amped up about being Aurors, as if that bloody meant something when there wasn't a war to fight.

Wednesday, he met with Dumbledore about the protections governing a certain stone. Severus didn't want it in the school. Too dangerous if someone caught wind of it and there'd already been an attack on Gringotts. But, as usual, Dumbledore waved his fear off with a smile and sent Severus to make minor adjustments on his line of defense. Scowling darkly, he made his way past Hagrid's ridiculous dog, flying keys, etc, until he reached his own defense. A cruel smile lit his lips. If someone could figure through his puzzles and not poison themselves, perhaps they _deserved_ to find the stone. It was quite a bit more difficult than those dratted flying keys of Flitwick's!

Letting anger and resentment fill him was so much easier than dreading the coming moon. He tried not to think about it at all through the week but anytime he met Lupin in the halls, he felt those eyes follow him too long, trying to figure him out. Severus felt like screaming in frustration. If he didn't love the man so much, he'd kill him! And he _did_ love him. He'd never _stopped_ loving him. He'd wanted to. Tried to. But Lupin had gotten so under his skin... Well. That was neither here nor there until he managed to find _something_ to blackmail Malfoy with...

Speaking of Malfoys. Severus glanced over the Great Hall, seeing the students getting into their breakfasts noisily. They seemed happy enough except for a certain blond boy on the Slytherin side. Severus studied Draco as he moodily shoved food around his plate, eyes lifting to shoot looks across the room to where Gryffindor sat. He knew things weren't quite right between his s- between Harry and Draco. Harry had always craved friends. Independent as he he might have been, he needed people to give him affection and Severus had once been one of those to do so. He wondered if he ever would be... but honestly, that wasn't as important at the moment. Glancing to the other side, he spotted Harry easily by his too-long, still messy hair. The boy was stuffed between the Weasley and damned Granger, as usual. It seemed the two of them had taken up as his imperial guard of sorts. Well, the Weasley anyway. The idiot girl seemed disgusted with them half the time. Severus had to admit that she showed some promise in his classroom, but he hated know-it-alls and would not abide by a student who would be so rude as to _interrupt_ him. Perhaps when the insult would be soothed later on with penance, but for now he still felt it fiercely.

He realized he was being distracted. Severus frowned and settled his gaze firmly on Harry. There was a tightness in his shoulders and his brows were pinched. Things were not going as well as one would think. Severus wondered if the enmity between his house and best friend was getting the better of him. There was little Severus could do for him, but he wished he could soothe the discontent so easy for him to see. Perhaps, Harry might come to speak with him again... He hoped, even if he doubted. Severus gave him a last look, then finished up his meal.

Sunday met with the moon's itch under his skin even more powerful than usual. He felt too energy filled and tense and couldn't concentrate on a damn thing. It wasn't just the moon. She made his blood sing but this was stronger. As if another voice were calling to him as well. One familiar and almost painfully beautiful. It was all Severus could do not to run outside while the sun was up and wait for Moonrise, prowling his territory. Except it wasn't _his_ territory. Lupin owned this place and Severus was only here due to his choice. That was understood in the wolf part of both their minds. Much as he denied it, Severus was still part of Lupin's pack, small as it might be. In a way, the connection soothed him just as much as it hurt.

A respite in grading essays was not to be had. Draco came to his office in the early afternoon and spent the better part of an hour complaining about Gryffindors, Harry's situation, Professor Sprout, and whatever else he could come up with in one long, angry, frustrated tirade. Severus listened instead of throttling the boy like he wanted. Draco was his godson. He was not allowed to cause irreparable harm.

He finally sent Draco away when he realized he'd begun salivating at the sound of the boy's heartbeat and the promise of hot, sweet blood. The blood fever that came along with his transformation had been getting stronger for years now. Severus closed his eyes, taking a few calming breaths to keep himself from following the heartbeat he could still hear and ripping into supple flesh. The potion was slowly losing effectiveness. He'd been trying to refine it but had yet to find a recipe that didn't null the potion completely. In any case, he knew that one day, the potion would be absolutely useless to him. He feared that more than anything else.

Belby hadn't been happy to hear of it when Severus finally got around to writing him. The old man was officially retired, but he still ended up in the Potions Guild main office more days than not, supervising or meddling in things. The last year he'd been working on his Wolfsbane potion and doing research. However, finding sources for the information he needed, the records of werewolves currently taking the potion, was more difficult than he'd first thought. Severus did what he could, sending him monthly reports and doing whatever minor modifications Belby suggested, but they both knew that time was running out. They just didn't know how quickly.

It was with these thoughts in mind that Severus finally left the school and made his way down to the familiar shack. He caught Lupin's scent, minutes ahead of him. Grimacing, Severus ducked through the tunnel and came out into the shack. He was alone in the front room but he smelled Lupin everywhere and it made his blood hot and fast. Severus straightened. He heard Lupin in the bedroom, rooting about here and there. He seemed as hyper as Severus felt.

Frowning, Severus cast shielding spells on the doorway. Perhaps they would manage _not_ to deal with one another through the night. He'd try, anyway. When he was finished, Severus stripped and stowed his clothing aside. He sat down against one wall, eyes on the bound doorway, but Lupin didn't come through. Severus was alone when the moon hit and his body changed.

The transformation seemed easier this time. Still painful, but better, faster. He stayed fully conscious as his mind shifted and balanced between himself and the Wolf, that which was not quite him. The Wolf sighed with pleasure at finally being freed. It was happy enough to stretch out powerful legs and yawn with that monstrous maw. Severus let it before he started sniffing around. The Wolf became instantly attentive. It recognized that scent. Without warning, it gave a howl that reverberated through the shack. Find him, _find him_, the pack leader, the one it had _lost-_

Severus very nearly lost it then. The Wolf was so very insistent, so desperate. It was never suppose to leave its pack and it had become lost, disoriented, and so it waited. The Wolf didn't _want_ to wait anymore. When an answering, slightly confused howl returned from near by, the Wolf jerked control and darted for it, only to slam head first into the shielding spells over the doorway. It snarled with rage, jerking back to slam into them again. Severus felt lost. He could barely keep up behind the waves of rage and desperation wracking through the Wolf. His body vibrated with energy and he continued to throw himself into the spells until he saw the bigger, brown form of Lupin show up in the hall.

The Wolf backed off, panting with a low whine. He approached the doorway, nudging the invisible wall with his nose. Lupin sniffed about it as well, ears laying back after a moment. Severus started to regain himself, trying to make the Wolf back down, become manageable once more, but it jerked past his control again when it became too impatient. Lupin jerked back as Severus began to slam himself against the spells again with snarls of rage. And then Lupin began to as well.

The spells groaned and buckled. Two full grown werewolves could do more damage than _anyone_ knew. Finally, the shields shattered and Lupin bashed into Severus' side, throwing the both of them into the middle of the main room. Panting, the Wolf made him rise and went to its pack leader without a thought. It took in Lupin's scent, soothing itself that it really _was_ the leader it had lost, the leader it had howled for in these year lost. Lupin got up a bit awkwardly, ears twitching with visible confusion. Then he jumped at Severus and started up the old games of play they'd used to entertain themselves, years ago...

Severus woke to fingers sliding through his hair. He jerked his eyes open and didn't even think about who that might be. Cold permeated his body from that spot, the same cold that came when anyone but Harry touched him. Severus snapped one hand up, grabbed the others', and twisted it painfully back. He heard a yelp of pain but ignored it, throwing his own body back and away as he released that hand. His wide eyes came to rest upon a half dressed and bewildered Remus Lupin.

"Severus?" Lupin murmured, his voice coloring with worry as he rubbed his hand. "You..."

His heart was beating too fast, throwing his breathing off, but there was little Severus could do to stop the sudden panic that gripped him. He didn't honestly have the energy for that, but his body didn't seem to care. Lupin continued to stare at him. Finally, Severus ripped his gaze from Lupin's and got up, trying to ignore the miniscule shake in his hands. Damn it. He was too tired for this shit.

Lupin said nothing as the two of them dressed, but his eyes kept returning to Severus, trying to peer through him. Severus hated that. He snapped at the man more than he needed to before they went to see Poppy. She tutted at a few healing scrapes, then sent the both of them to bed.

Somehow, Severus wasn't all that surprised when Lupin caught his arm, but he was sure to rip it free again before he could think too hard about the fact that the cold didn't come when he knew it was Lupin who touched him.

"What's wrong?" Lupin asked, brows furrowed over his worried eyes. "Just now. That... That wasn't normal, Severus."

"How is it that you remain under the illusion that we're friends who expunge our entire worlds to each other?" Severus snapped back nastily. He folded his arms over his chest tightly, almost as if to comfort himself.

Lupin frowned at him. "You can't lie to me right now, Severus. You know I can smell it."

"Then stop paying attention."

A second later, Lupin's hand slammed into the center of Severus' chest and propelled him back into wall behind. It happened too quickly to stop it but the Wolf still awake under Severus' mind was quite pleased to see its pack leader being so forceful.

"I _can't_," Lupin murmured in a soft, stained voice. He was leaned close, close enough that Severus could feel his body heat so very easily. "Severus, you _know_ I can't. I won't. Something is wrong and I don't care if you hate me. I don't even care if you hate every bloody person on this earth. But don't ignore my warning. Something is wrong. It's in your _scent_, Severus! Last night, I..."

He hesitated, swallowing a lump in his throat. "Last night, I saw you struggling. I smelled it when you lost control. What's going on?"

Severus looked away and glared at bits of dust in the early morning light through a window.

"Damn it, Severus," Lupin whispered.

"It's not your concern."

"Pardon me, but _like hell it's not._"

Severus grit his teeth. "Take your hand off me, Lupin."

Lupin looked at him, eyes full of worry and frustration. His brows furrowed harder. "I want to help you, Severus-"

"_Then back the bloody hell off_," Severus hissed, pinning a dark glare on him. Lupin met it without backing down, but Severus could see his resolve failing. He could see the moment when Lupin wondered why he even bothered.

Then Lupin backed off, letting go. Before he could try to badger him again, Severus left the corridor and escaped to his rooms. He collapsed into his bed, barely taking the time to change into his night shirt. He slept uneasily, plagued by strange fever dreams that made as little sense as possible but disturbed him on deep levels when he woke on an off through the day.

At one point, he thought he'd heard someone enter his rooms, but couldn't fully rouse himself. The scent had been familiar, as had the aura, so he continued to sleep like the dead. When evening came, he woke and had a large meal sent to his rooms, which he ate veraciously. After, he finished grading essays and went back to bed. His body still ached, would likely in the morning as well, but he didn't feel as strained as usual, as if his body had finally adapted to the change. It didn't make any sense, but Severus remembered another time the same thing had happened. He'd been a teenager at the time, but he'd realized even then that the full moons were always easier to bear in the company of another werewolf. Or perhaps, just the in the company of pack. He'd never tested it with any others, too paranoid about allowing anyone else to know of his condition.

Albus had been relatively understanding on that end. Any teacher who hadn't known him as a boy hadn't been informed of his curse. It was little comfort, simply because more people knew than he wanted, but there was nothing he could do on that account. At least Minerva, Poppy, and Binns were trustworthy enough. He still didn't feel secure about the whole thing.

Severus curled up under the sheets and stared at his hands. He thought about the cold that crept through his limbs when people touched him, starting at his fingertips and toes, then spreading up his arms and legs as if he were back in the snow, waiting for Avery to hunt him down. Then he thought about the warmth of Lupin's fingers on him, the way it made his heart quicken with something other than panic. It didn't make any sense and, yet, it was perfect. He didn't know what to think about it but he resolved not to let Lupin know.

Somehow, he'd manage the lessening effect of the Wolfsbane. He didn't want Lupin's help or involvement in that. It was obvious he wasn't having the same trouble. Severus closed his eyes.

Thank Merlin for small mercies.

**Chapter 11**

**From Ghosts and Unruly**

Harry tried not to hide his worry when he found out Severus had taken a day of absence on Monday. He'd known the man was sick again, as usual. Severus' health had never seemed bad, but every few weeks he was struck by the mysterious illness that left him bedridden for a day or so at a time. Harry tried not to worry; he didn't succeed.

However, he had other things to worry about. Like how to ditch Ron so he could meet up with Draco and make sure he didn't hate him. Harry liked Ron just fine but the guy was convinced that he had to save him from being "influenced by slimy Slytherin prats." His older brothers, Fred and George, seemed intent on helping. It annoyed Harry to no end, but he finally managed to break off from them and escape Gryffindor eyes on evening. With a breath of relief, Harry found his way to the owlry and penned a quick note to Draco, sending it with a school owl. He felt better after. As long as he managed to escape the Tower on the right night, he'd be able to clear up matters between them.

That left Severus. Harry thought about going to his rooms but he decided Severus probably needed whatever rest he was getting. He still ended up going inside, fidgeting for a few minutes outside Severus' bedroom door, but he didn't go in. Instead, he went to go see Professor Lupin.

...Only to find out that he, too, was ill. Harry felt something cold in his gut. Did Professor Lupin have the same illness Severus did? He swallowed thickly. Wary as he was of the man, Harry _liked_ him. Anytime they met in the halls, Professor Lupin was very kind and always asked how he was doing. He'd even offered to help with his homework if Harry wanted. It was hard to keep up a front with Professor Lupin, even though Harry tried simply because of how stressed Severus got around him.

Harry gave the door a mournful last glance. He'd talk to him later. Harry went back to the tower to find that Ron hadn't really noticed he was gone, too engrossed in a chess game with Neville Longbottom. Ron liked chess. Scratch that, Ron _loved_ chess. It was about the only thing Harry thought he was all that confident in, as much bluster as Ron managed elsewhere. Harry had never been all that great at strategic games but he knew a few tricks from playing with Severus. Ron beat him easy every time. It seemed Neville was giving him a bit of a run though. Harry watched, rather surprised that his shy dorm mate had even consented to the game, much less was doing well. Maybe Neville had a few good points, after all...

The next day was their flying lesson. Harry spotted Draco and couldn't help grinning, even though the blond just gave him an acknowledging nod and then went back to glaring at Ron. The lesson went well enough. Harry had enough practice on his training broom that handing a real one wasn't all that hard. Except when he rose off the ground, it didn't stop at seven feet. He let himself edge a bit higher, a strange euphoria spreading through his body as wind played through his hair. Flying. _Actual flying_. No boundaries. No restrictions-

"_Mister Potter!_" Madam Hooch, the flying instructor, yelled as if she'd said his name a few times now. He jerked to awareness and realized he'd floated some twenty feet up. He came down quickly, cheeks flushed with embarrassment as more than a few Slytherins and Gryffindors snickered. Beside him, he could hear Hermione telling Ron all the rules she'd read about in various books from the library, but he wasn't all that interested.

Then Neville lost control of his broom. He shot up in an uncontrolled jerk and then went off like a shot, streaking across the sky. Harry could hear his scream easily and his own heart quickened. Hooch yelled up at the boy, trying to get him to reign in control, but Harry saw immediately that that wasn't going to happen. The broom jerked and zagged, nearly throwing the boy off a few times. _And Hooch still wasn't saving him!_

Later, Harry would realize he should have just shoved his broom at her. Instead, he mounted it himself and raced off after the other boy, ignoring the teacher's angry yell after him. Blood pounded through his ears, blurring out every other sound in a second. Harry pressed low to the broom handle, trying to gain speed. He kept his eyes locked on Neville's form, matching the erratic moves of the other broom with only faint difficulty. He had to match it _perfectly, _had to get to him...

Neville didn't even notice him there. The chubby boy had a death grip on his broom, eyes shut in terror as he screamed. He didn't even realize when a minute shift sent him hurtling right for the school, but Harry did. With a curse, Harry trained every bit of speed he could manage out of the old school broom. He reached out his hand towards the back of Neville's robes, inching closer and closer as the school rushed even nearer. Seconds before both of them would crash into it, Harry got hold of cloth and jerked as he wrenched his broom upward. Neville came a panicked cry but he didn't let go and the tug had been just enough to change his trajectory.

Except not enough. Neville still slammed into a buttress with a sickening crack and then lost hold of the broom. He was falling, falling faster than Harry thought you _could _fall. Without thinking, Harry twisted his body with the broom and shot right down at him. He could see when Neville opened his dazed eyes and stared back at him. He'd taken a crack to the head, Harry noticed idly through the rush of air slamming into his face.

Harry caught hold of his hand after a few tries, ignoring the ground rushing up at them, then wrenched the broom again. He heard another crack and then Neville sobbed in pain, but he'd stopped the descent. Slowly, he lowered them to the ground where Hooch was waiting. She looked absolutely maddened, face red and hawkish eyes blazing. She took up Neville, helping the boy up as he clutched to his dislocated shoulder, then snapped for Harry to follow.

He glanced back at the others, who were all staring at him in various states of awe, then bumbled after Madam Hooch as his heart began to slow in his chest. Instead of the euphoric rush of flying, he was quickly filling with dread. He'd flown without permission. Would he get in trouble now? Obviously! Oh Merlin, what if they told _Severus_...? By the time Neville had been dropped off with Madam Pomfrey, Harry was wondering if he'd be _expelled_ for that stunt. He miserably followed Madam Hooch through the halls, not even bothering to look where they were. She stopped at a classroom and called out Professor McGonagall. Now Harry felt even worse, his heart sinking with every second. This was it. His Head of House was going to expel him and then Severus would hate him and probably un-adopt him, if that were possible, and then what would he do?

But after the two teachers spoke to one another in quiet tones, Madam Hooch left and Professor McGonagall just gave him the oddest look. "Come along, Potter."

Not since finding out his real name had Harry wished more fervently that he was Johnathan Harold Snape again.

Professor McGonagall led him through more halls, then stopped at a classroom and asked for Wood. Harry paled. What? Wood? Was she going to _beat_ him!? Severus hadn't said anything about that!! He was still panicking when a tall, older boy came out, looking rather bewildered.

"I think I've found you a replacement Seeker," Professor McGonagall said. Harry's panic skipped a beat. What?

Wood looked at him. "A first year..?"

"Apparently, the boy managed to catch another student from a dead drop and pulled out of it four feet from the ground."

Had it been that close? Harry felt a little woozy.

"Really? Huh." Wood looked at him a little harder. "Well... I can test him out."

"I thought you might." McGonagall folded her arms over her chest. "Potter, you'll meet with Wood after classes today on the Quidditch pitch. Do as he says. Understood?"

"Y-yes, ma'am," Harry murmured, a little bewildered. Was she honestly considering him to play Quidditch for the Gryffindor team? Wasn't he suppose to get expelled?

"Off with you now. It's time for your next class."

Harry hurried away but not without a last glance back to them. Wood was muttering something to McGonagall, seeming a bit skeptical, but he head something about beating Slytherin from the woman before he was too far to hear them.

Beat Slytherin... But Harry didn't want to play against Draco and Severus' house. What is they held it against him?

He ended up fretting about it all through classes but as soon as he met Wood out on the pitch and took to the air, his worries seemed very silly. Harry loved flying and now on an unrestricted broom, he felt more free than ever. Wood put him through his paces, running him through a few different positions, but it became obvious to both of them that his strongest was that of Seeker. Harry was a natural. He found it so easy to twist through the air, banking as the Snitch did, following it in dizzying twists and turns. The chase got his heart pumping and his blood singing.

"I haven't seen anyone fly like that since Charley Weasley," Wood murmured finally and there was a grin crossing his face. "And he could have gone for England if he wanted. Too Dragon crazy, the loon."

Harry grinned right back. He'd never been so thoroughly pleased with himself before. Wood clapped him on the back after they'd put all the Quidditch things into their box.

"You've got the stuff, Harry," Wood murmured. "You're on the team. Practice starts next week, after tryouts."

The grin on Harry's face remained all the way back to the Great Hall for dinner. He was greeted by older Quidditch team members, who were both curious and cheered to meet their new Seeker. Harry ate the attention right up. He looked to the head table and spotted Severus there, looking wane but relatively all right. The older man met his gaze and though he didn't smile, his nod of approval was just as good. He wasn't angry at harry for being on a rival team. Harry could have died happy right _then_.

"Well _this_ looks like a grand party. Why didn't _I_ get an invitation?" drawled a familiar voice behind. Harry turned, still grinning.

"Draco!" he greeted happily even as the other Gryffindors immediately began shifting to the defensive, eyeing both Draco and the boys standing behind him. Harry ignored it, instead going nearer to his friend. "I've made the Quidditch team."

"Bravo," Draco murmured in his usual arrogant done but Harry knew him well enough that he _was_ happy for him. "I suppose we'll be playing against one another, then."

"You've made your team?"

"In all likelihood." Draco glanced at his hand, examining his nails. "Tryouts are this weekend."

"Good luck," and Harry meant it.

"You'll need it," growled Ron from behind him. Draco shot the redhead another look.

"I don't remember inviting _you_ into this conversation, Weasel," he snapped. Harry sighed, already seeing the argument winding up. He really didn't have any want to see it again.

"Don't, Ron," Harry said firmly, turning to give Ron a hard look. "Draco is my _friend_. You can at least be _decent_ to him."

Ron looked instantly affronted, as usual when dealing with Draco. Before his blond friend could smirk at the apparent victory, Harry turned on him as well.

"And _you_ could show some manners," he continued, even as Draco gained a betrayed look on his face. "I _know_ you have them. So don't call Ron names."

Draco rolled his eyes and folded his arms over his chest. "_Fine_."

"There. Now we can all be friends," Harry mumbled, though he was getting to realize that was rather unlikely. It was even less likely after Ron gave a humorless laugh about the whole thing and Draco turned an interesting shade of green at the thought of ever being friends with a Weasley. Harry resigned himself the ceasefire at least.

That night, Harry managed to sneak out of the dorm without waking any of the other boy. He crept out to the halls and began finding his way down to the classroom he'd asked to meed Draco in. He was certain Draco would be down to meet him. Somehow, the fact that he'd come over to congratulate him seemed to make that obvious. He got to the classroom after only a few missteps, then waited.

And waited.

Harry checked his watch. Draco was late. A faint fear gripped him. What if Draco _wasn't_ coming? What if earlier at dinner was some kind of trick? To embarrass him, or something like that... Harry frowned. No. He wasn't going to think that. Draco was his _best friend_.

Then Draco rounded a corner at a dead run right for him. Harry blinked in surprise but he didn't have enough time to say anything before Draco grabbed his arm and jerked him along with him.

"_Filch is right behind me!"_ Draco hissed in explanation and Harry's heart seized a moment. Crap!

The two raced through the halls, bolting away from the sound of Filch's voice in the halls. Harry's heart thumped in his chest hard and fast as he ran after Draco, who still held one of his hands in a tight grip. Up a stairwell, down a hall, round through corners, another staircase-

Then they realized they'd run themselves into a corner. There was no where else to run, except through a door. Draco cursed and drew out his wand. He unlocked one door with a spell and dragged Harry through it. When the door was pulled shut after, both boys leaned against it panting and listening. They could hear Filch muttering about what he'd do to them if he caught them but he didn't seem to notice where they'd gone. Harry let out a sigh of relief. Then he heard a growl. Draco looked at him, paling, and the two turned and looked.

Three sets of huge, angry eyes stared out from three enormous, dog like heads as three hideous mouths full of yellow fangs opened up with three rumbling growls.

**Chapter 12**

**Who Try To Dispose**

The only reason Harry didn't scream was that his throat had suddenly decided to seize and keep the noise inside. Draco grabbed his hand but neither of them could move as the dog_thing_ stared at them. Ropes of glistening spit dripped from each mouth as the growl rumbled through their bodies. It was so _big_. Harry suddenly had the urge to start laughing hysterically. Only Draco's hand tight on his own kept him vaguely in control. Finally, Harry started _thinking_.

"Grab the doorknob," he said very softly, eyes on the dripping fangs. "Open it slowly."

Draco didn't respond at first but then Harry felt him move. And then two of the heads focused on _Draco_. Harry nearly panicked. Then he heard the click of the door and shoved Draco closer to the opening. The dogthing saw the movement and let out a louder snarl. Harry lost it. With a hysterical cry, he grabbed the door himself and jerked it farther open before shoving both of them through it. Then he pulled the door shut with a slam. Draco locked it and the two of them stood, shaking with fear.

"What....what is that... that _thing_ doing here...?" Draco whimpered out, his eyes wider and skin whiter than Harry had ever seen. "Who'd put a cerberus pup in a _school?!"_

"P-p_-pup?! _That thing was a_ pup?!"_ Harry stared at him, incredulous. "They get _bigger?!_"

"I think so? My father trains them..."

Harry gave a little hysterical laugh. "Trains... trains _cerberus_ pups. Oh. Okay then."

"For other people. M-Mother doesn't like them..."

Why on earth were they talking about this instead of the huge monster behind the door? Harry looked at it, giving a little shiver. "...Did you notice... under one of the feet, there was a door?"

"I think _panic_ was about all on my mind, Harry!" Draco snapped but not unpleasantly. "I don't really care what it might have been standing on!"

"There was a _door_. A trap door... I... I think it was put there to hide something..."

Draco laughed a bit humorlessly. "Okay. Okay, so maybe I believe something crazy like that. I mean, Dumbledore is a pretty crazy bint, isn't he?"

"Yeah. That's what Fa-" Harry stopped and swallowed as Draco glanced at him, realizing immediately what the slip had been when Harry continued. "What Severus says."

The blond reached out and grabbed his hand again. "..Come on. I think we need to get somewhere safer and talk. Okay?"

Harry wanted to refuse. He knew exactly what Draco wanted to talk about and it wasn't the slavering, three headed thing back there. But he didn't. He wasn't sure he could let go of Draco's hand just then. So, he nodded wordlessly and let Draco tug him away from the door and to a room closer to the Astronomy tower. They kept an ear out for Filch but didn't have too much trouble finding a corner to curl up in together. Draco didn't seem to mind as Harry sat right next to them, smashing their sides together as if trying to turn them into one being. And he still hadn't let go of Harry's hand.

"Well... That was.... um. Fun," Draco mumbled awkwardly. "But lets lay off the death defying stunts on the next date."

Harry managed an odd, strained little giggle. But he cut it off before it could turn into something more hysterical. Draco squeezed his hand.

"Right. Next time we'll do something safer. Like... Like wrangling dragons."

"Wow, Mr. Smooth Talker, aren't you, Harry?"

They both laughed uneasily before Harry dropped his head onto Draco's shoulder and closed his eyes. "...Draco... that was... really scary."

"Yeah. That about sums it up...." Draco let out a slow breath and reached up, burying his free hand in Harry's thick hair. He pet though it, just like he had since they were much younger. "Are you all right?"

"Um. I think so?" The gentle petting was soothing and Harry suddenly felt really tired.

Draco let it go for a bit and they sat still and quiet with only the sounds of their own breathing and a stray cricket. Harry nearly fell asleep under the comforting presence and petting.

"Harry," the blond murmured softly, finally. "How are things with.. with Uncle Severus?"

"I don't know," was the uneasy answer. Draco sighed a bit.

"Did you talk to him? About... you know."

Harry shifted uncomfortably but Draco hadn't stopped petting his hair so he couldn't go far. "Um..."

"You haven't talked to him, have you? At all." There was a definite hint of disapproval that made Harry squirm a bit. "Harry, stop being a prat. You're just making both of you miserable."

"What would you know?" Harry shot back grumpily. "You don't talk to your father either."

Draco's hand stilled. He didn't say anything but Harry instantly felt horrible. He started to apologize, but Draco cut him off.

"No," he said in that quiet, cool tone he used when he was upset,"I don't. But that has nothing to do with you and Uncle Severus. He actually _likes_ you."

"Draco," Harry tried, hearing the brittleness in his friend's voice, but Draco wasn't having it. He never liked talking about his father like this.

"What's holding you back, anyway? Are you mad at him?"

Harry swallowed. He rested against Draco more fully again, playing with he hem of his shirt. "...No. Not really."

"Then what is it?" Draco started petting him again. "I mean, did he change at all? Did he hit you?"

"No!" Harry said with sudden vehemence. "No, Severus would _never_ hurt me!"

Draco made a triumphant noise. "You're right. He wouldn't. So why are _you_ hurting _him?_"

"I just... he's..."

"He's exactly the same, Harry." Draco let go and shifted, dragging Harry up to face him. "Look. You need him. He's your _father_. I don't care what he's told you or who might have fathered you, Uncle Severus is your father. So stop being a prat."

Harry nodded slowly and then whispered out, "I know."

"Then stop acting as if anything's changed." Draco let go and started to get up. "It's late. We should get to bed."

Hary grabbed his outstretched hand and pulled himself up. They started walking towards their dorms but stopped before parting ways. Draco caught Harry's hand and gave it a squeeze.

"It'll be okay," he murmured and then gave a little smirk. "I'll even say something nice to that weasel of yours."

Harry grinned. "You shouldn't call him that, you know."

"Yeah...." Draco's eyes glittered. "But it's so funny to see him get riled up."

They parted ways and Harry slept peacefully for the first time in weeks, curled up in sheets and reassurances. In the morning, he felt fit and ready for the day, grinning more freely. Ron looked a little surprised by how exuberantly he dug into his breakfast.

"Good dreams?" he asked, blinking.

Harry grinned. "Yeah. But more than that. I realized something very important."

"Eh? What is it?" Ron asked with a confused look as Hermione glanced at them from across the table.

Harry started to answer, then paused as he noticed a familiar figure entering the hall. He turned and looked at Severus, who paused a moment before giving his customary nod of acknowledgment. Harry started to return it but stopped. Draco's words rung through his head and he knew the blond was right. He had to fix this and the long it went undone, the longer Severus hurt because of him. So, he swallowed thickly and pulled at his courage.

"Morning, Father," he said, sounding much more certain than he felt.

Severus stopped and stared at him, as did the other students close enough to hear it. For a long few seconds, no one moved and the hall was strangely quiet in their portion. Harry ignored it, searching Severus' face. Wondering if he'd done the right thing. Then something shifted in Severus' expression. It softened and suddenly, Harry realized he'd healed some of what was between them.

"Good morning, Harry," Severus responded quietly. He reached out and brushed a bit of too-long black hair out of Harry's eyes and his mouth didn't seem as pinched. "I've heard brushing your hair in the mornings can be quite beneficial to one's outward appearance."

Harry's throat felt tight but he still grinned. "Yeah, well. My hair might fall off if it ever saw a brush."

Behind him, there was a sudden mutter of utter incredulity at the light banter. Harry ignored it. That didn't matter at all. Not when Severus was looking more relaxed than he had in weeks.

"Try testing that theory sometime," Severus murmured. His eyes slid to Ron, who was staring at him open mouthed, and abruptly he was the Potion's Master again. "Do keep that claptrap of yours shut, Weasley. You may enjoy the stench of your own breath, but it could choke a dragon."

Ron shut his mouth with a click and a flush of embarrassment. Then Severus swept back for the head table, leaving Harry grinning behind him. He turned back to the table, ignoring the stares of other students, and dug in. However, they wouldn't be in shock forever. Eventually, the Gryffindors recovered and Neville Longbottom squeaked out.

"That- _that's_ your _father?!_"

Harry lifted a brow, glancing at him over his biscuit. "Yeah. Why?"

"But..." Seamus frowned with confusion. "But he's not your _real_ father...I mean, James Potter..."

"Is dead." Harry sat back in his chair. "I don't remember him at all. I mean, I was _one_ when he died. But Severus adopted me. He raised me. _He's_ my father."

"That's _horrible_," Neville said, looking almost sick at the idea. "He's...he's _Snape._"

"Greasy _git_," Ron seconded.

Harry frowned. "Look. I know its hard to believe, but... He's a _good_ father. I mean, he's strict and all, but..."

Suddenly, Hermione slammed one hand onto the table and made all of them jump. "You guys are being _horrid_. Insulting Harry's dad like that. Don't you have any _manners?_"

"I've got plenty of manners," Ron said sourly. Hermione gave him a narrow look.

"What would you do if Harry said horrible things about _your_ dad?"

"But my dad's _great!_" Ron protested. "He'd never do anything terrible."

"Neither would mine," Harry murmured quietly, giving him a hard look. Ron still looked like he was sucking on something sour but he eventually decided to give up the battle. The others still looked rather unsure, but Harry didn't care. He dug into his breakfast and resolved to enjoy the day.


	4. Chapters 13 through 16

**Chapter 13**

**Will You Keep Me Near**

Severus would never know what, exactly, had made Harry decide to accept him as his father, regardless of genetics. He decided not to question it. Actually, he was a little afraid Harry might _revoke_ that if he did. So, instead, Severus enjoyed his breakfast and watched as Harry's friends shot him confused looks. The whole thing was rather hilarious from the outside.

Classes that day were more bearable. He still threw out at least one detention per class, but barely got into his usual finesse with dropping point averages. He wasn't even all that cruel to that idiot Longbottom in Harry's class. They got away with ten points off for stupidity and Longbottom stayed after to clean the typical blow cauldron, but that was all. Severus still felt rather pleased with the day anyway.

With as good as everything went, somehow Severus wasn't all that surprised to find Lucius Malfoy waiting for him in his rooms. Severus stopped at the doorway and stared at the tall blond as Malfoy thumbed through a book from his collection by the fireplace. The blond man took his time, finishing his depthless look through, then set the book back in its place before he turned and gave Severus a cool smile.

Damn it.

"Severus," Malfoy greeted with a faint purr in his voice. Severus wondered abruptly what he'd done as he closed the door behind him.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" was the reply. Severus saw no reason to be kind now. He already knew what was going to happen.

Malfoy gave him a half serious frown. "Come now, Severus. One would think we aren't friends."

"We aren't." It was the expected response and it had been true for years now. But Severus knew it would spark Malfoy just like it always did. If he could get this over with, he'd be able to get some rest tonight once he was finished putting himself together.

"Tut. You..." Malfoy smiled. He set his ridiculous cane against the bookcase and began a slow stalk towards him. Severus supposed some might feel excited over that. Malfoy _was_ beautiful in all the traditional fashions. Even as he hated him, Severus couldn't deny that. So he didn't and, instead, hated him all the more for his beauty. He didn't move when Malfoy reached out and touched his cheek, didn't shiver even when the cold numbness began to spread through him as always. "Have you been naughty, Severus...?"

The teacher lifted a brow. "Trying to talk dirty now? Isn't that below your station?"

"Quite the opposite in certain situations," Malfoy responded with a strangely cold cheer. Then his hand slipped back, grabbed a handful of black hair, and wrenched Severus' head back painfully. "I _know_ that lowbred _whore's son_ is here, Severus. Has he touched you? Did you lay with him yet?"

"No!" Severus snarled, gritting his teeth as Malfoy only pulled harder.

"Liar," Malfoy whispered against his bared throat. "I know you. You're such lusty tramp. No doubt, you bedded him the _first night._"

Severus was sure his neck would break if Malfoy pulled any harder. He slipped a hand into one pocket, searching out his wand, but when he drew it out, Malfoy saw the movement. He grabbed Severus' hand and slammed it back into the door until something cracked, Severus jerked with pain, and the wand fell uselessly to the floor.

"Hm..." Malfoy sounded amused and his cold eyes flickered to his face. Severus glared at him from the corner of his eye. "This is new."

"Go to Hell," Severus snarled. The blond smiled a little wider.

"I think I like this new attitude," he murmured with amusement. Then he grabbed the front of Severus' robes and threw him bodily across the room. Severus grunted when he hit the ground on his shoulder and saw stars as his head smacked into the floor. He heard Malfoy heading for him, but his vision swam and he swayed badly as he tried to push himself up. Malfoy grabbed hold of his hair again and jerked him up onto his knees. "But while this amuses me, I can't have you thinking you can _actually_ defy me. Severus, I think I'll have more fun breaking you tonight."

And he did. By the time Malfoy threw him onto his bed and spelled cuffs around his wrists, he was already ice cold inside and numb. Pain seemed abstract and unreal. His mind let go of his body and floated instead, outside of the whimpering, hurt thing Malfoy had turned him into. As if it wasn't him. He'd learned to do this after months of agony and only that had saved him these dark, shameful years.

"He can't make you feel like this," Malfoy hissed in his ear. "And he'll never want you if he knows how much you _love_ this."

He didn't love it. He didn't like it at all. But Malfoy's voice dug into his psyche, dug into the parts that were suppose to be _Severus'_ voice. He made it almost believable.

"Dirty, used _whore_, Severus," the blond man whispered as softly as the brush of his long hair against Severus' back. "Merlin, how your body _craves _me. How it opens up so nicely... You craven _slut_."

Severus shuddered despite himself. Yes, yes, he _knew_ all that. Malfoy didn't need to tell him again. He _knew_... but that didn't make it any easier to accept.

Malfoy took him apart piece by piece. He tugged at every insecurity, taking perverse pleasure in twisting Severus up as far as he could as he twisted his body. This was the way of it. Malfoy enjoyed the mental anguish of what he did almost as much as he enjoyed the physical. Severus had never given him the satisfaction of crying, but every touch of Malfoy's fingers made him want to die inside.

It had to be late by the time Malfoy finished with him. He left his sore, bleeding body on the bed, smiling at the damage he'd wrought. He flicked his wand to clean himself and dressed.

"Now, I think we've learned a lesson, haven't we?" he said rather genially. Severus didn't answer. He could barely move. Malfoy didn't care. "I have eyes in this school, Severus. Eyes that see _every little thing_. If he touches you, I will know. If you let him, I will rip his heart out and serve it to you on a silver platter."

Severus managed to turn his head. He glared at Malfoy, clenching his still restrained hands. For a moment, he thought seriously about going to Malfoy Manor one night and smothering Malfoy as he'd once thought to do to his grandfather.

"So glad we have an accord," Malfoy murmured cheekily. He stepped over to the bed and brushed his fingertips down Severus' cheek with mocking gentleness. Then he slid them to an oozing bite along one shoulder, on down sweat soaked skin to the bleeding scratch of a finger nail. Malfoy's eyes darkened and his smile became even colder as he lifted his hand and studied the red smeared over his pale skin. Then he brought it to his lips and sucked the blood from his fingers. Severus shuddered in revulsion.

"Do be a good boy, Severus," the blond murmured cooly. Then he banished the cuffs and left without another word.

Severus closed his eyes and laid still for a long time, simply trying to put himself back together after the damage Malfoy had rent on his body. There was little he could do for his body at first for every movement sent dull and sharp pain surging through him. So he focused on his mind, trying to sort out the truths and lies in Malfoy's words.

He was stuck suddenly by the strangest memory. Severus' first time had been messy, untrained, and painful, but he remembered the way Lucius had held him after and how gentle his voice had been. Severus shuddered and curled his hands tightly in the pillow. How had Lucius become this monster that haunted him now...?

When he was able, Severus got up and washed, carefully cleaning out scratches and bites. Then he sat naked in his bathroom and carefully applied healing draught to his hurts, bandaging those he couldn't heal fully. In a way, he didn't even want to. He deserved this. Every last bit of it had been earned. The pain, the madness, the cold, it was rightfully his even if he didn't want it. That wasn't his choice.

Severus decided not to bother dressing yet. His body ached and even the brush of his robe against his skin made him wince and shiver. He pulled it carefully closed and then went to see to the bedroom. He hated the way Malfoy's scent had permeated the room.

He was only half finished when a hesitant knock came to the door. Severus frowned and pulled his bedroom door shut, going to answer the knock. He was surprised to see Remus Lupin behind it.

"Lupin? What do you want?" he asked. He was too tired to deal with this, damn it.

"I-" Lupin stopped. He blinked once and then his brows slowly furrowed as he focused on a spot just beside Severus' neck. Frowning, Severus reached up to tug his robe collar a little tighter but Lupin caught his hand and his frown worsened. "Severus? What happened to you?"

"None of your business," Severus shot back with a glare but Lupin wasn't having it. Instead, he stared at the reddened, still healing skin around his wrist.

"Then I'll _make_ _it_ my business," Lupin replied quietly. He shoved Severus back enough to get inside, shutting the door with his foot.

"What do you think you're doing?" Severus hissed. "Get out of my rooms at once!"

"No, I don't think so." Lupin gave him a hard look and then his eyes glazed a moment. "..That scent... Why do I know it... Severus, who was with you?"

"I don't see how it bloody well matters," Severus grumbled, folding his arms over his chest. He didn't have the energy for this.

Lupin's eyes narrowed. He walked over and grabbed the edge of Severus' collar, moving it aside. Then he drew in a quick, quiet breath as anger burned through his gaze.

"He _bled_ you," Lupin snarled out, turning his fiery gaze to Severus' own.

"It doesn't _matter_-"

"Like Hell it doesn't! Severus, you're not a _child!_" Lupin's sounded so very pained and angry. "Who's done this to you?"

Severus looked away. He couldn't hold that gaze any longer. However, he ended up quite startled when Lupin grabbed him and lost his breath as he found himself against Lupin's chest. Severus shuddered, eyes wider as he went very still.

"Damn it, Severus," Lupin whispered with his voice tight. "If you won't protect yourself, why can't I?"

And Severus continued not to breath more than tiny, swift things that barely sustained him. He swallowed thickly, his heart thudding in his chest as he fought down every urge in his body to _let_ Lupin do that. To let _Remus_ in and let him heal him. But Severus didn't deserve that and Remus didn't deserve to be used.

"Don't," Severus managed, soft and weak.

"If you really don't want me here, make me leave." Remus' arms tightened around him. "Throw me out the door. But you'd better curse me while you're at it, something to take out my legs, or I'll come right _back_."

Severus shut his eyes tightly, his hands clenched at his sides. "Don't _say_ that.."

"Why not?" Remus rested his head on Severus' unbitten shoulder, turning to bury his face against damp black hair. "Dear Merlin, Severus, do you know how much I've missed you...?"

That nearly broke him.

**Chapter 14**

**And Shine a Light**

"Who hurt you?" Remus whispered near his ear.

Severus shivered. He wanted to reveal it. He wanted to tell and let Remus protect him. But every time he opened his mouth to do so, he remembered Malfoy's threats. He saw what would happen. Remus' mangled body, blood everywhere, days of torture... Severus swallowed thickly.

"No," he murmured.

"Damn it, Severus..." Remus held him tighter. "I'm tired of this. I'm tried of you pushing me away when everything is screaming for you to stay with me. I _know_ you want me. I know you still.."

Remus faltered and drew in a shaky breath. "Severus... I don't care if you're with me or not, but for Merlin's sake, let me protect you! You're my _pack!_ I don't care how much you hate remembering that, you _are_. I _have_ to protect you-"

"Then I'm an obligation?" Severus said very, very softly. Remus' back went ramrod straight and he jerked his head back. Before the well meaning denials came forth, Severus pressed his hand over Remus' mouth. "I'm not your pack, Lupin. I'm not anything to you. And I don't want to be."

Remus stared at him, brows furrowed and eyes wider. Severus could see the doubts entering his gaze along with denial. He had to be careful.

"Did you think that just because Cissienia Jugson eventually rejected me that I'd let you be so familiar like this again?"

His voice was cold, colder than he'd been able to manage with anyone but Malfoy. But this had to be done. It had to work. He wouldn't be responsible for Remus' death.

"Severus-" he managed around Severus' hand.

"No," was the immediate, cold answer. "Let go of me, Lupin. Or I will hex off your arms and force you to do so."

Remus hesitated. He stared at Severus, searching his face, his breathing off. Then he started to let go. Something in Severus' chest tightened painfully but he had to stay strong. He couldn't give Lucius Malfoy any reason to-

Lips crushed against his. Severus jolted with surprise but a strong arm curled around his waist and another hand curled in his hair, keeping them crushed together. The rough touch rubbed healing hurts but Severus couldn't make himself care about that. Remus didn't wait for him respond. His tongue forced its way through Severus' lips and a groan escaped him before he could manage to silence it. Remus pressed into him harder and Severus stumbled until his back rested against the wall near the door. He grabbed at Remus' shoulders but before he could decide whether he wanted to push him away or drag him in tighter, Remus pressed him almost hard enough to lose breath. He wasn't about to give Severus time to think. One knee fitted itself between Severus' legs as Remus continued to kiss the life out of him.

He forgot what he'd been doing before for a few moments, forgot what he'd been thinking about. Severus felt as if he were being washed away by the sheer relief of feeling Remus' body against his, tasting his mouth, scenting his want and need... He responded to the rough, commanding, but still tender touch. His hips rocked into the thigh that ground between his legs, demanding a response. When Remus finally broke off the soul wrenching kiss, Severus couldn't quite speak.

"What has you so afraid to be with me?" Remus whispered. There was a deep pain in his gaze, a want tempered by need and hurt. Remus Lupin still loved him, Severus realized. He'd never stopped. And that broke his heart.

"Remus," he murmured, his voice tight.

Something flared in Remus' eyes and he pressed them even closer. "Merlin, Severus, what is it? I can't fight what I don't know about. I can't protect you. _Please_..."

"I can't." Severus closed his eyes, brows drawing. He'd been weak. He couldn't pretend to hate Remus now. Remus _knew_. But he couldn't let this happen. He couldn't let Remus rile the anger of such a powerful man. "Remus, please...I can't."

"Like hell you can't," Remus growled. "I want to know why you've put me through this. _Years of being alone!_ Who is the bastard that's kept you from me?"

"He'll kill you," Severus whispered. He opened his eyes, taking Remus' face in his hands. "I won't watch you die, Remus. I _can't_. I can't lose anyone else..."

Remus stared at him, panting softly with both rage and need. Then he let go, pulling back and taking a step from him. Remus looked away, his brows furrowed tight and angry. Severus stayed where he was. He didn't think he could stand without the support.

"Who is he?" Remus murmured, quiet and angry.

"I can't..."

"_Goddamnit, Severus!_" Remus' hands fisted tightly at his sides. "I won't go running after him without a plan and I'm sure as hell not useless with a wand! I took Auror training, for Merlin's sake! And Albus definitely tempered all of us in the war! If I could survive that madness, I can survive this!"

Severus winced faintly. He folded his arms over his chest, hugging himself as he closed his eyes tightly. "He's dangerous-"

"_He's hurting you!_" Remus snarled back. Severus heard him move but still jumped when Remus' hands came to his face, resting against his cheeks. Remus kissed him, hard at first but it softened quickly into something sweeter, something that made Severus' heart clench. "Severus, I love you. I _have_ loved you. For years, steadily. You can trust that I _will_ always love you. But I can't stand aside and let some bastard harm you like this. Scare you like this. I can't do that."

Severus shivered as Remus pressed in close again. Gods, he was too tired for this. The emotional roller-coaster coupled by his bodily exhaustion made it almost impossible to keep his shields up. He didn't _want_ to.

"Please," Remus murmured so softly against his lips. "Let me make it right."

Why couldn't it be as simple as Remus seemed to think it was? Severus drew in a shaky breath. He couldn't let Remus go after Malfoy. Regardless of what Remus said, this was an enemy he couldn't fight. He didn't have the political or monetary power to fight what Malfoy would do to ruin him, didn't have the traitorous cunning that all Slytherins learned as children, didn't have the seemingly unlimited knowledge of the Dark Arts that Malfoy could employ... Remus was blind and he didn't even know it.

"I won't tell you his name," Severus began and before Remus could protest, he kissed him solidly and let himself revel in the familiar taste until Remus calmed again. Then he went on. "Even if you knew his name, you would be blind to what he can really do. And you going after him is exactly what he's wanted since the beginning."

"Why?" Remus pressed, lips pursing. "Why does he give a damn?"

"Because I'm his possession to be toyed with-" Severus cut off the expected denial with his hand. "And he doesn't like anyone else touching what's his."

"You're not-," Remus started, then grit his teeth and tugged Severus in closer. "You're _mine_."

The possessiveness he heard in Remus' voice made a shiver run down his back and a burn start in his belly, even after what Malfoy had done to him not so long ago. For a moment, Severus didn't care if it would definitely have hurt him. He wanted Remus to show him just who he belonged to.

Severus pet his fingers over Remus' face, tracing familiar skin and new wrinkles of age. He brushed his fingertips through the graying hair at Remus' temples. He brushed his thumb across Remus' lips. A hot, wet tongue flicked out to trace his thumb in response and Severus shivered.

"Do you still want me?" Remus murmured, soft and velvety against his skin.

Severus swallowed thickly. He stared into Remus' face, the face he'd been dreaming of for years, praying for Malfoy to just die so that he could run to that face again.

"Yes," he whispered.

Remus nodded. He didn't smile but the heat and need in his gaze was just as good.

They didn't lay with each other that night. Severus might have let it happen but it would have been painful and just too soon. Neither of them was quite sure where they stood with one another.

Remus helped Severus clear out the bedroom of blood and the stench of pain and Malfoy. Then he took Severus in his arms and they laid down together, curled up under the blankets. Severus buried his face against Remus' chest as the other werewolf held him in the warmth and security of his arms.

They parted ways in the morning but there was a promise in Remus' eyes when he left. Severus knew he wasn't going to let this go. He just hoped Remus didn't actually succeed in finding his tormentor. And he prayed Malfoy wouldn't realize Remus knew about him.

**Chapter 15**

**To Keep the Ghouls**

Harry noticed something was strange about Severus. There wasn't a difference in class and no one else seemed to realize it, but Harry knew something was up. He just didn't have a clue _what_. At times, Severus had a faint anxiety in the way he stood and stared off, thinking deep thoughts that worried him. Other times, there was the slightest flush to his cheeks, like Cissie before she announced her engagement to Mr. Novak. It was at lunch one day that Harry jerked upright and blinked widely as he put two and two together.

His father had gotten a _girlfriend! _Or at least a crush!

That thought send the very strangest mix of emotions through him. For one, he was happy that his father had apparently found affection for someone. But at the same time he felt an odd sort of fear that this meant Severus would forget him in the flurry of things. Some of his friends at Durmstrang had had that happen when their parents found lovers. And that made Harry feel cold and alone inside. He didn't want to be forgotten or ignored. Especially not by Severus.

Going through class, Harry half paid attention but most of his thoughts were on his father. It bothered him much more than he wanted it to that Severus was sweet on someone… He paid for his inattention as the man himself snapped at him but took no points. Harry flushed with embarrassment and settled back into his work. At the end of class, Severus called him up and they waited for the other students to leave, though Ron paused at the door to give him a worried glance before heading off again.

"..So.." Harry began, looking at his shoes. "…I'm sorry I got distracted."

"See that it doesn't happen again." Severus stepped around from his desk, counted vials of the day's potion, then stepped over to his storeroom. Harry watched him, nervous though he wasn't entirely sure why. When Severus drew out a long, thin package, he was even more confused. "I meant to give you this for Christmas, but I believe it will be of more use to you now."

Harry didn't quite tear into the paper, but the package _was_ opened rather quickly. And then he just stared at it. There, nestled in brown paper, was a Nimbus 2000 adult broom. A _new_ Nimbus 2000, still with a wrapper around the perfectly aligned twigs. Harry stared at it a while longer before he lifted his gaze to Severus.

"…This is…"

"A slight extravagance," Severus admitted, quiet and slightly unsure. "But so is a first year seeker."

Harry's mouth was dry and his throat felt tight. He _knew_ Severus was not a rich man - they lived relatively frugally - and he _knew_ how expensive a new broom was. He swallowed thickly as he drew the broom up from the paper and held it in his hands. Perfectly balanced. This broom must have cost a small _fortune_…

"Father," he choked out. One slim, long fingered hand settled on his shoulder. It squeezed once, then released.

"Keep to your studies and don't get so distracted," Severus murmured blithely, as if he hadn't given Harry one of the best gifts _ever_. "If your sport activities make your grades suffer, we _will_ have words."

Harry nodded quickly, not trusting his voice. How could he have been dumb enough to think some crush would make his father stop paying attention to him? Severus led him to the back door and sent him on his way with a note for his next teacher. When Harry set the broom on his bed, he felt the urge to take it with him and keep it on his person until he _died_, but he was pretty sure his teachers would take offense with that. So, finally, he left it alone and went on.

That didn't keep him from showing it off to the guys as soon as the school day was over. They oo'ed and ah'ed over it appreciatively and weedled out promises from Harry to try it out the next weekend if they could find someone to chaperone. Harry just grinned proudly. Even Draco gave him a slightly jealous but congratulatory word later when Harry gushed to him. He'd just been confirmed Seeker for the Slytherin team. They decided to practice together later, if their captains allowed it. Somehow, Harry was pretty sure Draco could get the older Slytherin to go along with it somehow. Draco was good at that. Wood on the other hand….

"Absolutely _not_," Wood grumbled when Harry brought it up at practice. "If their Seeker is there, it gives the Slytherin team every right to hang out and watch out strategies!"

"But it'd be _after_ team practice. Then there's no secrets to keep, right?" Harry tried but Wood gave him a scowl.

"_You're_ a secret enough," he grumbled. "_No one_ believes you can fly as well as you can but the team and McGonagall."

"But I need the extra practice!" Harry pleaded as Wood dragged up the supply box and started carting it in. He _needed_ this! Any excuse to spend a bit of time with his best friend was a good one! Despite the fact that Draco was being dutifully civil to the Gryffindors (at least when Harry was around), Ron still refused to leave them alone if he could help it. He was absolutely convinced something would happen. "I… I'd know how he flies! It'll give us an edge against Slytherin!"

Wood paused and then gave his a glance, one brow raised. "Aye. And him the _same_."

"I'm the better flyer of the two of us," Harry continued. He almost had it, he was sure of it! "We both know that anyway. But this way, I'd know his game style _exactly_."

That made Wood think a little. He dropped the supply box into it's place and folded his arms over his chest. "You're not going to drop this, are you?"

"Father says I'm more stubborn than ten generations of Weasleys," Harry replied with a grin. Wood rolled his eyes but he _got_ the reference. He'd been on the team with Weasleys from the beginning.

"Okay, _fine_. But the second I figure out any reason for it, this _ends_. Got it, Potter?"

Harry beamed. "Got it."

Draco did, of course, end up convincing his captain to allow the same. They started the practices immediately and, just as Wood had feared, more than a couple Slytherins ended up there to watch, as well as about as many Gryffindors. Harry didn't mind. He had a blast weaving in and out of the field with Draco as both went after the snitch. It wasn't practice so much as just a fun hour or so of flying. They called out insults they didn't really mean and playfully trying to knock one or the other of them off their brooms. By the fourth instance of this practice, the Slytherins had decided there was nothing to watch and only Ron, continuing to bluster about consorting with the enemy. Harry could deal with that.

September flew by at great speed and then Severus got sick again. Harry fretted, as usual, but this time Ron knew him well enough to notice.

"What's up with you?" he asked when they sat down to lunch and Severus still wasn't there. Harry shoved a bit of food around.

"Nothing," he mumbled as he rested his head on one hand and shoveled some food into his mouth to try and hide it. Ron was not amused.

"_Something_ is wrong," he needled.

"You wouldn't care," was the grumpy retort. Ron scowled as his cheeks reddened with anger.

"_Try me!_"

Harry sat up straight and glared right back. "My father is ill."

For a moment, Ron just blinked and then looked sympathetic for about four seconds before he realized who Harry's father _was_.

"Oh," he murmured, looking rather uncomfortable after giving the head table a glance and noticing the Potions professor was gone.

"Yeah. _Oh_," Harry snarled. "And he's been sick for as long as I can remember!"

Ron did, at least, have the decency to look a bit shamed. "He seemed fine to _me_…"

"He's _not_," Harry ground back without an ounce of pity. "And I think it might be getting _worse_."

Ron looked at his plate as if it was the most interesting thing in the world. He disliked him enough that it was almost impossible for Ron to really sympathize and Harry understood it, but it still made him mad that his friends had such a low opinion of his father. Especially when Harry was this worried about him.

"I'm sure he'll be okay," Hermione tried from Ron's other side, having listened the whole time. "Your father. After all, Madame Pomfrey is one of the best…"

"Yeah," Harry muttered moodily as he went back to shoving his food around.

He didn't notice until later that Professor Lupin was also gone. And when he did, it made him more sure that both men were suffering the same condition. As soon as Lupin was back, Harry stayed after class to speak with him. He wanted answers.

"Is there something you need help with, Harry?" Lupin murmured with a soft, tired smile, leaning against his desk.

"I wanted to talk to you," Harry replied and then almost lost his nerve now that he had Lupin cornered. For his part, the muggle studies professor seemed patient enough to wait to eternity. Harry took a breath and picked at his fingernails before he blurted out, "I noticed you're always sick when my father is."

Whatever Lupin was expecting, this wasn't it. The teacher blinked a little and then seemed a bit uncomfortable. He rested his hands on the edge of the desk and ran his thumbs against the carved edge.

"That's correct," he said carefully and Harry knew right off that there was something about the illness Lupin was hiding. Something his father likely was as well.

"Father said it wasn't deadly. He's never said what was wrong with him, but… He gets sick so _often_. " Harry's brows furrowed as he glanced to Lupin through his messy bangs. Lupin looked almost _sad_.

"It's not deadly," he said quietly. "But it's not currently curable, either."

"What's _wrong_ with him?" Harry blurted, desperate for an answer.

"Harry…" Lupin sighed a little, raking a hand through his salt and pepper hair. "It's not that simple."

Harry's fists clenched. "Why can't either of you give me a straight answer? Is it some kind of embarrassing illness? I don't _care_ about that! I just want to know what's wrong with my father!"

Lupin gave him a sad look and then stared at one of his hands. "..It's not my place to tell you something he's decided to keep secret, Harry. But.. I'll speak with him about talking to you. Maybe I can convince him."

That didn't make Harry happy, but he was pretty sure then that Lupin had no intention of revealing the answers he so wanted to hear. He left moodily and even the night's flying practice wasn't enough to lift his mood.

**Chapter 16**

**And Fright At Bay**

Severus didn't invite Harry to talk, but Harry knew Lupin was working at it. He caught them in the halls often enough, speaking too softly between each other to hear. His father often had a look of resignation in his eyes, or anger, while Remus showed his frustration freely. Whatever the illness was, Severus was doing his level best to keep it secret. The question was _why?_ Did he not _trust_ Harry?

Which made it even _worse_. Not only was his father sick with something badly enough to miss a few days on a monthly basis, but he wanted so desperately to keep the secret from the rest of the world that he wouldn't even assuage the horrible nightmarish illnesses his own son's imagination could come up with. Harry wanted to _hit_ something!

He snapped at Ron, at the rest of the boys in his room, the rest of the Gryffindors who crossed his path, a group of sixteen Hufflepuffs, three pretty Ravenclaw girls, and Professor McGonagall. The last of these earned him three days detention with Filch, which just made him even more frustrated. Especially when Severus kept him after class to ask about it. Harry had managed a weak excuse that his father accepted but they both knew he didn't believe it. Of course, Severus _was_ rather distracted these days…

And thus, the root of the cycle.

Halloween was usually one of Harry's favorite holidays, after Christmas and his birthday. He and his father would spend it together, as long as there weren't classes to teach, and eat a generous dinner with many tasty treats after, listening to good music and just enjoying their company. They'd carved up pumpkins more than once and set them on the mantle with flickering candles inside. But even the oncoming holiday was little ease for his sour mood. He spent it grumbling and nervy, as if something was crawling under his skin. He didn't know how, but something more than just the situation with his father was bothering him.

Ron sat next to him in Charms. He wasn't having a very good day either. Something had annoyed him that morning at breakfast and he kept shooting nasty looks towards Hermione Granger. Harry didn't really care. He was too busy glaring at a feather that refused to fly. With his frustration, his magical abilities seemed to be just as flustered and kept backfiring on him. The feather would shiver and actually started smoking at one point, but little else. At least it wasn't as bad as Neville Longbottom, who had to go to the infirmary when his rose six inches and blew up in his face.

It was near the end of class before Harry got the feather to lift off the table but that fuzzled as he heard a growl of dismay and looked up. Hermione's feather rose was doing _loop-de-loops!_ For a second, Harry hated her for that. The feather did elegant figure eights, rose and fell on command, changed speed at Hermione's whimsy… _Ugh!_

Ron was livid and class ended only moments before he burst out at Hermione. The girl's eyes went wide as he snarled at her, as did Harry's. Harry might have bee jealous at her prowess, but that was no reason to yell at her! He was too shocked to speak, even when Hermione's eyes went wet and she ran from them, clutching her precious books. Harry instantly felt terrible. It wasn't like he knew Hermione very well, but she _had_ stuck up for his father and tried to comfort him. He gave Ron a glance and noted the way he seemed to sag. Even Ron could figure out when he was being cruel.

They tried to find the girl before their next class and after it, but she was well hidden. Ron didn't say much, his lips set in a stubborn line as he tried to talk himself out of feeling bad. Harry just figured they'd find her at dinner. Except they didn't. When Harry tentatively asked one of the girls of their year if she'd seen Hermione, the girl shrugged a bit and told him where to find one of the girls' washrooms she'd seen Hermione duck into. Harry hoped she wasn't still there, crying, but resolved to go find her after dinner whether Ron came or not. Though, dinner was rather spectacular with all those bats and the great food...

"TROLL!" screamed a voice from the doors of the Great Hall. Professor Quirrel stumbled in, eyes wide with fright, and nearly fell on his face. "T-troll! In the s-s-school!"

Then he fainted in the middle of the Hall. he Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher _fainted_. The teachers were up immediately, one going to tend to the man as the others herded the students out and towards their dorms. A troll in the school? Harry blinked, more shocked than scared, and then he went cold. How would Hermione know? Harry grabbed Ron's hand and they ducked out of the crowd, hiding until the teachers and students left. They snuck out after and drew out their wands, only to be startled as something moved across the hall. Harry nearly let out a startled curse before he recognized.

"_Draco?" _he hissed out. "What are you doing here?"

"And miss whatever knuckleheaded plan you were going to come up to kill yourself this time?" Draco drawled out before he gave Ron a glance. "Oh. Hello, Weasley."

"Malfoy," Ron greeted curtly with a frown.

At least they weren't snarling insults at each other. Much. Harry felt instantly better to have both his friends as backup. The three boys went through the school, heading first for the bathroom the girl had told Harry about. Might as well start at the most likely place to find Hermione. They moved with wands drawn, wide eyes darting here and there for any sign of danger. Harry had never seen a troll before, but he'd read about them in his father's books.

Ron suddenly grabbed both Harry and Draco's arms, shoving them back behind a large stone griffin. Harry was about to say something when he saw his father hurrying past. He blinked, confused. Why wasn't Severus with the other teachers?

"He's heading for the third floor," Ron observed, confused as well.

"Where the cerberus is?" asked Draco, which made Ron twitch around to stare at him.

"Cerberus? In the _school?_"

Harry was developing a headache. "I'll explain later. Come on, we need to find Hermione."

Ron muttered something about how he'd _better_ explain but that was headed off when they saw a shape lumbering ahead. All three boys went still and stared. The troll was _huge_, twelve feet at least, and the _smell!_ Harry felt choked even _this_ close. And he was heading for the bathroom!

"Harry," Draco hissed in his ear, one hand on Harry's shoulder. "We need to get out of here!"

e

"That thing's gonna _murder_ us!" Harry was too terrified to find Ron agreeing with Draco to be ironic or funny. He looked to the troll and then the bathroom door, which was open and spilling light out into the hall. He thought about Hermione's wet eyes and pale face. The troll was half through the doorway before Harry did something both very brave and very stupid.

He ran after the troll.

A shocked gasp was caught in his wake as he raced towards the open door. He was halfway there when he heard a scream and realized Hermione was, indeed, in that particular bathroom at the worse possible time. He ran faster, blood pumping in his ears and deafening him, and nearly skidded right into the troll itself inside the door. Harry grabbed the doorframe to stop himself and immediately saw Hermione wedged in a corner under the sinks, one hand over her mouth to keep from screaming. She was shaking and terrified and Harry knew immediately that even though this was stupid, he was doing the right thing. He just hoped his father didn't murder him after this if the troll didn't.

Harry let loose the first spell he could think of, but that only brought the troll's deep set eyes onto him. It lunged for him but Harry was faster and ducked out of the way. He let off another spell before hearing someone else's voice. Ron and Draco hung in the doorway and the redhead's wand was outstretched, even if his eyes were wide with fear. Draco looked about ready to vomit.

Between them, Harry and Ron managed to piss the troll off royally. It snarled and grabbed at them, knocking Harry across the bathroom. He hit the wall and his breath was knocked out of him but he still gamely got up. That seemed all Draco needed to snap out of his stupor and he joined in the cajoling. Maybe they would make enough noise to get a teacher there before it killed them all!

The troll swatted both Ron and Draco away before it grabbed hold of Harry around the middle and made to smash him against the floor. However, it was caught short when its own club suddenly dropped from a few feet above it and smashed into it's head with a sickening crunch. The troll lurched this way and that, swinging Harry about, and then slumped to the floor with a crash. Harry was sent rolling right into Draco, who huffed at the impact. They picked themselves up, surveying the fallen troll, then Harry looked to Hermione, who still had her wand out from the levitation charm she'd used. Hermione was white as milk and her breathing was short and slow. She scrambled up from the floor and threw herself into Harry's arms. Harry hugged back awkwardly, giving Ron and Draco an embarrassed glance. They all looked rather rough and tumble. Draco's blond hair was sticking up every which way and Ron's eye was definitely going to be black by the end of the night.

"What on Earth?"

Harry froze a little and looked slowly to the door. His father stared back and Harry realized he was in very, very big trouble. At his side, Professor Quirrel let out a little whimper and sat down hard, clutching his heart. Professor McGonagall looked angry and rather tired. She surveyed the children and the unconscious troll and gave a sigh as she rubbed the space between her eyes.

"Harry," Severus ground out, his voice quiet and very dark. Harry looked at the floor with embarrassment, as did the others when Severus glanced at each of them. How did he explain this…? It was obvious his father was _livid_.

"It's my fault!" Hermione suddenly blurted, pulling away from Harry. She spun a rather clever story but Ron and Harry could only stare at her at the blatant lies. Hermione Granger didn't _lie!_ Draco just seemed surprised that he was being included in the rescue. Severus definitely didn't buy it, but McGonagall seemed convinced enough and Quirrel was in no position to disagree.

McGonagall sent them off with five points each for saving Hermione's life and surviving the ordeal. Harry felt his father's eyes following him the entire time. He couldn't help feeling horrible, even if he didn't feel bad saving Hermione. For her part, Hermione gave a quiet thank you to Draco before he went off to the Slytherin dorms, then to Harry and Ron. They shrugged it off to keep her from getting too embarrassed.

The next day, it seemed as if the troll adventure had sealed something between the four of them. Ron and Harry didn't mind Hermione sitting with them and when he greeted them later Draco didn't even sneer at her. One issue had been resolved, but there was still another one. Harry found Lupin later that day and while he congratulated Harry on his adventure _and_ berated him for going up against a troll in the first place, he still hadn't made any headway in getting Severus to talk about the illness. The conversation left him feeling unfulfilled and annoyed, but his sour mood was dampened for now. His father _would_ talk to him about it someday. He just hoped it happened sooner than later.

A little over a week after Halloween, Severus was sick again and Harry decided sooner had arrived whether he liked it or not. He waited until that evening before visiting his father. Severus looked tired and wane but he still let Harry into his rooms. Harry gingerly sat himself down in a chair by the fireplace and Severus lowered himself into the other. He moved as if his entire body was sore and his energy zapped. Harry almost felt bad about bothering him. _Almost_.

"I want to know whats wrong with you," Harry said before he lost his nerve. Severus blinked a little and then sighed softly, folding his hands in his lap. "And no excuses, Father. You're _scaring_ me."

For a moment, a flicker of shame filtered into his father's gaze, but it was gone again as Severus composed himself. "You needn't be frightened, Harry. I'm not going to leave you."

"How am I suppose to believe that if it's so horrible you won't just _tell_ me?" Harry shot back, brows furrowing tightly. "What's so terrible about our condition that you have to keep it secret? That you made Professor Lupin keep secret too?"

"You know about Remus-" Severus began, obviously startled, but then he just frowned. "It's not that simple, Harry-"

"Will you both stop telling me that?" Harry's hands were fisted tight in his lap as he glared at the man. "I'm not a baby! You don't have to protect me from knowing things! And it's scarier _not_ knowing! Do you know how often I imagine these horrible things happening to you?"

Severus sighed softly and glanced down at his lap. He said nothing for a few moments, giving Harry time to calm down a bit and catch his suddenly ragged breath. He hadn't meant to get angry. Not when his father was already feeling terrible.

When Severus finally looked back at him, there was a grim sort of acceptance in his gaze. He clasped his hands and looked Harry dead in the eye, and then asked him a question Harry hadn't expected in a million years.

"All right, Harry. How much do you know about werewolves?"


	5. Chapters 17 through 20

**A/N:** Sooooo... I'm a horrible person for leaving you at such a cliff hanger for two years. But I'm back and committed to finishing this story. Again, sorry about the wait.

**Chapter 17**

**For Only You**

Whatever Harry had been expecting him to say, it wasn't that. Severus watched the boy try to figure out the jump in logic. It was somewhat endearing that Harry didn't immediately think he was a slobbering beast one night a month.

"We're supposed to learn about them in later years," Harry tried, brows bunched up. "And I've seen movies.."

"The cinema is not known for its accuracy," Severus murmured as he rubbed the backs of his hands with his thumbs. Then he decided he'd better just come out with this. "Harry, I am a werewolf."

Harry just blinked at him at first. He opened his mouth to say something, then closed it again, bewildered and bothered. Severus figured this was a better reaction than he could have hoped for. The horror and disgust would come later, of course, but at least Harry was simply staring at him now.

"The night of the full moon, I transform. That is why I am always gone," Severus continued as calmly as he could. He ignored how shot his nerves were, how ready he was for Harry to simply reject him right then and there. His hands would have been shaking if he weren't gripping them so tightly."The day after, I sleep. The transformation is painful and exhausting."

"But…" Harry floundered. He looked at his hands, fingers twitching here and there. "But..."

"The potion you see me take is a way to control myself during the transformation. It keeps the animal mind under control. Makes me… safe. Without it, I would be a mindless beast as soon as the moon rose."

Harry shivered. He shifted, hugging himself across his chest and looking back up at him. Severus wasn't sure what he saw in the boy's eyes. He wasn't sure he wanted to know either. Harry's face was white as milk and his eyes looked almost glassy with shock. Severus wished there had been another way to tell him, something less blatant and jarring, but he doubted anyone could have done any better.

"C-can I catch it..?"

Severus blinked once, a little surprised at Harry's tiny, unsure voice. "…No. I'm very careful to keep contamination under control. You can only be turned on a full moon by surviving a transformed werewolf's bite. So please continue not invading my space on these nights. I don't want to turn you any more than you would want to be turned."

For a moment, Harry looked like he was going to be sick on the rug. Severus wouldn't have blamed him. He should have had the foresight to have cocoa ready but he'd been hoping to avoid this conversation for… Well, forever, perhaps, despite what Remus had been pushing at for the last few weeks.

For a long time they were silent. Harry stared at the rug, alternating between looking sick and bewildered. He was too young for this. Actually, anyone was too young to deal with the reality of a werewolf, even wizards. Severus' chest clenched painfully as he waited, letting Harry have the time he needed to process this.

Finally, Harry glanced at him, though his eyes were quick to drop again after. "...Can I think about this?"

"Of course. Take whatever time you need."

Harry got up and fidgeted a moment, looking as if he wanted to reach out to Severus for a moment but not sure if he should. Or if he really did want to. Severus tried not to let that hurt him. He stood, letting his robes settle around him, and hugged his arms across his chest.

"Sleep well," Severus murmured, when it seemed Harry didn't know how to end the conversation. The boy gave him a grateful look that melted back into something unsure soon. Then he left and Severus listened to the door click closed. It sounded deafening at that moment. He knew he was being very stupid, but it seemed… final. Ominous.

Severus headed to bed, careful of one leg that wanted to fail under him. That damned cerberus puppy. He swore he'd skin the thing for biting his leg, but at least it hadn't bitten the damn thing off and his healing factor was doing well to get him back to one hundred percent. Harry was an issue he'd have to think about later. His leg brought something back to the forefront.

Quirrel should have been able to handle that troll. Despite the man's terrified nature, he couldn't be completely inept. If Dumbledore really felt there was still a danger in the world severe enough to keep a spy in his pocket he'd never put someone into such an important position who couldn't do the job. Would he?

That took some thinking. The next day, he was still worrying about it. He brushed Remus off when the man asked him if he was all right and instead kept his eyes out for a moment he might be able to corner Quirrel and get some answers. There was something going on and it involved the man. If he hadn't missed his guess, it involved the Philosopher's Stone as well. That brought about some very unsettling ideas.

Before he managed to confront Quirrel, Severus went to see Dumbledore. He didn't expect to get much from him, but perhaps the Headmaster would let something slip. It didn't happen often. Still, there was hope. Severus took his seat and the offered tea, nose twitching at the sugary scent. Something like little lemon candies, which matched the taste as well. He didn't mind too much. Lycanthropy had sweetened his tastes over the years.

The conversation brought less than Severus had hoped. Dumbledore was very good at evading questions and had been dodging Severus' grilling for years. In the end, Severus had learned nothing more than Dumbledore would greatly enjoy a new pair of socks for Christmas, or perhaps a purple tie for his muggle disguise. Severus left in disgust. Why had he really expected?! Certainly no real help. But as he got to the door, Dumbledore finally, blessedly, said something important.

"What do you know of Horcruxes?"

Severus paused and glanced back at him, still annoyed from his evasions even as he grew more confused at the question. "More than I wish to. What is your point?"

Steepling his fingers, Dumbledore lost the look of a codgery old man, settling into the general he had been during the war. "I had an interesting conversation with Horace the other day. Reminiscing. You see, he was teaching potions when a young Tom Riddle attended this school."

Severus' scorn vanished. Instead, it was replaced by a deep, dark fear that he had tried so hard to leave behind. A fear he had tried to convince himself was foundless. But Severus knew what a Horcrux was and he knew the only reason Dumbledore would bring them up.

"How many?" he asked, his voice hushed. "How many did he make?"

"I don't know," Dumbledore replied honestly. "But I have reason to believe they are far more than I like and they can defend themselves."

And what an odd thing to say, but Severus was blindsided by the very idea. If the Dark Lord had made even a single Horcrux… Then he was still around, biding his time. Waiting. And then the horror of his attack on the wizarding world would happen again. And again, if they didn't manage to find and destroy every Horcrux he'd fashioned.

"Severus," the old man said softly, drawing his attention once more. "We must find them."

He could hear the unspoken words. Severus must find them. There was no one else that could walk the two worlds and keep his life. But Severus didn't want to search for them. He didn't want to become entangled in the lives of the remaining Death Eaters. His mind flashed to Lucius Malfoy and a wave of revulsion flashed through his body. Severus looked away.

"I will do what I can," he murmured. "But I have something to lose now. I can't throw everything I have into it anymore."

"But you must." Dumbledore's voice was soft but stern, firm in his convictions. "If you do not do this, Harry will suffer the return of the man that murdered his parents, who would likely torture him for days on end before killing him. Severus, you are the only one who can save him."

A flash of rage and Severus wanted to hit him as hard as he could, but he didn't move. "You would have made a fantastic Slytherin."

"I've heard that often."

Severus left him then and tried to leave the anger and fear behind, but it warred within him. So many times, he had told himself, told everyone, that the Dark Lord was gone. That he could never return. But now… He stopped near one of the windows, staring out towards the lake. Students wandered here and there, some studying, others playing games. If he did not do this, none of them would be safe, least of all his son…

But if he ended up dead, Harry would be in the hands of all those Severus had tried to save him from. Either the Ministry, who would use him for political gain and get him killed, or Dumbledore, who would turn him into a child soldier and manipulate him so that Harry chose to be that way.

No. Leaving Harry alone was not an option, but nor could he ignore the danger his son was in. He would search for the Horcruxes and identify them. Then he'd let Dumbledore's Order take care of them.

He wasn't really surprised when he found himself at Remus' door. But he didn't knock. Instead, he closed his eyes and drew in the lingering scent of the man. It was calming, even hours old. His senses were still wild from the full moon and often lingered for days after, longer with each time.

And that was another worry to add to the others. Even after Remus had forced him to admit that he still had feelings for him, and Remus's own confession, Severus had still nearly lost it during the full moon. He was still going feral. The idea should have been terrifying, but Severus felt… tired. He almost wanted to let it happen. Except it would leave Harry alone.

That in mind, Severus went to pen a letter to Belby and, hopefully, settle his mind for the task to come. It would take every shred of cunning he had to suss out the Horcruxes and lead to their destruction. But Severus would do it.

Dumbledore was right. He was the only one who could.

**Chapter 18**

**Can Keep My Heart**

The one person Severus never wanted to go to was the one person who would have any luck of finding the Horcruxes. Only the man who had been closest, who had been in the Inner Circle of the Dark Lord's most trusted disciples, could set Severus on the right path. The only reason he went was for Harry.

As soon as Severus step foot into Malfoy Manor, the cold settled deep in his bones. It hardened his body, his heart, and sharpened his mind in a way he might have envied, had he not realized the danger he was putting himself in. Who knew when Lucius Malfoy would grow tired of his little slut and discard the toy he'd held so jealously to him? But Severus did not have the luxury of fear. He didn't have the _time._ At least this time he would have surprise on his side.

A house elf tried to deter him, saying that the Master was sick, indisposed, sleeping. The hurried, depthless lies nearly made Severus pause. What was terrible enough to cause a house elf to lie? They were so distressingly terrible at it. For a brief moment, Severus wondered if, perhaps, Malfoy had taken up someone else in his sick games. Or maybe even Narcissa?

If it were Narcissa...

Resolve steeled, Severus forced the elf to lead him to her master. She was sobbing by the time they made it to the study but even this would not turn him from his task. He dismissed the pathetic thing and reached for the knob only to stop and listen. From inside, he could hear Malfoy's voice but it was not the dark, silken tones he had grown accustomed to. This was frantic, uncontrolled, desperate in the way of a man with so much to lose. No answer, but if Lucius Malfoy was so _afraid_...

The Dark Lord was dead.

But those indeterminate _pleas_...

The Dark Lord was _dead_ and would remain so as soon as Severus destroyed his last anchors. His wand was in hand when Severus opened the door, a spell on the tip of his tongue. But it stayed stuck in his throat, unneeded.

The room held only one occupant. Lucius Malfoy was sprawled beside his desk, half against a bookcase and the floor, a shaking mess of a man. His hands were caught in his mussed hair, fingers split and rubbed raw. His eyes held a madness Severus had only glimpsed a few times and never within what was once his friend. He barely resembled himself at all. Bloodshot eyes, rimmed with irritated red and bruised purple; clothing slept in, wrinkled, in disarray. Scratches in his face...

Malfoy's eyes rolled up to look at him in the doorway and he gave a sudden pained moan that had the hair on the back of Severus' neck standing. He ripped his hands free of his hair, taking long blonde strands with them, and scrambled to his feet. Malfoy barely made it, swaying enough to make him stumble and use the desk to keep him steady.

"_Severus!" _he whined, voice trembling as badly as his body did. "Severus, you have to know- _you have to know that I-_"

He choked, grabbing at his throat, his face, dropping his head as his shoulders hunched jerkily. It was the most bizarre thing Severus had ever seen.

"Malfoy," he murmured, greeting or question he wasn't sure. Lucius Malfoy had gone _mad_.

The blond man gave a broken, bitter laugh. "_No!_ That's not- That's not what you call me, that's- Severus. _Severus_. Listen to me. Not to me, but to _me_."

Severus didn't move. He didn't know what to say or do as Malfoy pinned him with a desperate, wide eyed stare. What on Earth...? Then the man stumbled towards him, reaching out with bleeding hands to grab the front of Severus' robes in a death grip. The cold inside him magnified, pure ice stretching out from his chest to the rest of his body.

"Listen to me, Severus, old friend-"

"We are not friends," Severus replied immediately and was surprised by his own hushed tone. Malfoy stared at him, panting for breath as if he had been running for days.

"Yes we are," Malfoy insisted as his hands shook against Severus' chest. "_Yes we are_. You don't understand. I didn't know what was happening. I didn't _realize_. You don't understand how powerful he is. _I didn't know, Severus._"

"The Dark Lord?" Severus murmured softly and Malfoy's eyes went wider.

"Yes! _Yes!_ You understand? It's him, Severus. It's him, pulling strings and wants and dreams. Oh Merlin, the _dreams_." Malfoy shuddered hard as pure revulsion swept through him so powerfully that his entire body began to crumple from the weight of it. He fell against Severus, weakened, and Severus felt something inside him worn thin and weak finally _snap._

Malfoy's knees hit the ground as Severus grabbed his jaw, jerking his head up, making him face him. And when he had Malfoy's eyes, he delved into his mind with all the finesse of an axe.

A thick, disgusting, black _thing_ had itself wrapped around Malfoy's mind. It filled nearly every crevice and cranny, soaked into most every thought and feeling and dream. Tainting them. _Owning_ them. Twisting them until they were as black and ugly as it. And as Severus delved into memory, it turned to _him_.

Severus jerked bodily as he dragged out from Malfoy's mind. The man himself gave a strangled whine and collapsed onto the floor. That.. Severus had never seen anything like that before. He leaned back against the doorframe, trembling as he tried to banish the sick, oily feeling of it from him. He felt choked and nauseated and...

A moment of clarity. Severus knew what that was. He stared down at Lucius Malfoy, the shaking wreck left of him, and he knew.

"You fool," he whispered. "You power hungry _fool_."

Severus knelt down beside Lucius, turning him onto his back and snapping his fingers to get his attention. Bloodshot, terrified eyes turned onto him.

"How many?" Severus hissed out and when the man didn't seem to understand, he asked again, "_How many of you did he implant his soul into?"_

"Six," Lucius whispered. "Six. I didn't... Severus, I didn't know what it would do. It keeps me sleeping so often now-"

"Quiet." Severus dropped his hands in his lap. He didn't want to touch anyone, least of all Lucius fucking Malfoy, the Lord of Terrible Ideas and Worse Ambition. "What did you _think_ it would do?"

"He said it would give us power. _His_ power..."

Severus laughed, cold and dark. "You're not an idiot. You must have realized what it was. The sacrifices alone should have been obvious enough!"

Lucius closed his eyes tightly as shame rolled through him. "You don't understand. You weren't... You weren't in the real middle of it. Too _young_. I... I didn't want you in there."

"Don't you dare try to tell me you were protecting me," Severus hissed out as the cold reared inside him fiercely. He got back to his feet, backing towards the door. "Not after this. Not after everything you-"

"_It twisted me!_" Lucius howled. He tried to get to his feet but could only manage his knees. "It twisted everything I've ever wanted or needed- Twisted what I am until I didn't recognize myself anymore and I can't... Severus, most of the time, I don't even know it. I don't _care_. So often, I don't even care anymore. And when it's quiet, when I can _think_ again- Merlin, Severus, what it's done to my _son!_"

Severus stopped. For a brief moment, a cold fear welled up inside him. Draco. Had he- but Severus had been watching. He'd have known, have noticed, if Lucius began... to his son...

"No," Lucius breathed and this time he was able to stand, stumble back to him. "No, Severus, not that. Not even if it- I stayed away when I felt it rising. I called for _you_. I sent him away. Severus, I always sent him away. I can't... I can't stop feeling these... these things, needing them, but I called for _you_."

It made a sick kind of sense. Once, they had been great friends. Once, they had been there for one another. Even this made sense when Severus put it through the lense of a badly damaged mind.

"When did it start?" Severus murmured softly, feeling as if his insides had been shredded. Lucius barely moved, his eyes half lidded and locked on the ceiling.

"Long after the ceremony. When I realized there was someone else in your heart that might actually return the favor."

Severus glanced at him, surprised, but Lucius didn't look back.

"It was always me, before," the blond man murmured softly with a candor Severus had never heard before. "I was the only one that really saw you. And then he realized what worth you were. I tried to accept it. Severus, I really did try. But every time I thought about you or him, I... It churned inside me. I couldn't... stand the very idea of you belonging to someone else. You were mine. You _are_ mine."

And it was true. For now. Because of the noose of knowledge around his neck and held in Lucius' hands. But this...

"You made me a toy," Severus hissed, quiet and bitter.

Lucius sat up, raking a hand back through his hair to get it out of his face. "I made you _mine_. I etched myself so deep inside you that you will _never_ forget me."

It happened too quickly for Severus to react. In an instant, the broken, shattered man before him was no more. In his place was the tormentor Severus had come to know intimately well. Severus made a break for the door, but Malfoy was on him a moment too soon, slamming him back hard against the doorframe.

"You are mine, Severus. Mine to have and to touch and to _break._"

_No_. _Not this time._

Something burned through the ice inside of him. It flashed so fast and hot through his body that Severus barely realized what he was doing until after he'd wrestled Malfoy to the ground. And then he didn't care because this time, _this time_, he was not going to let it happen. He couldn't let this- _he would not submit like a frightened bitch to a sick and clawless wretch_.

Severus raked his hands down Malfoy's chest and wasn't surprised when cloth and skin broke under his sharpening nails. His other hand wrapped tight around Malfoy's throat and kept him pinned down. Malfoy's hands scratched and tugged frantically but Severus had never been stronger than this. He would not be moved. Severus tore open the front of Malfoy's robes, ripped aside his undershirt to get to the bare expanse of his bleeding chest. He could hear nothing except the fast, hard rhythm of Malfoy's heart.

Remove it and he would remove the weakness that had dared cow him for so long, had dared think itself strong and worthy and _above_. Keep his pup safe from the twisted thing infecting his pack-

Harry.

The fury broke. Severus blinked and color bled back into his vision. He stared down at Malfoy as the man's struggles grew weaker. What was he doing?

Severus let go and got to his feet, stumbling back a few paces. He looked at his hands, the blood under his sharpened, lengthened nails. It was worse than he feared. Severus fled the Manor.

**Chapter 19**

**Steady and Calm**

When Severus returned to his rooms in the dungeons, he immediately washed the blood from his hands. And then he washed them again. And again. He washed until he couldn't even smell the blood anymore. Lucius Malfoy hung in his clothes like a wraith, so he stripped down and sent them to be laundered as he slid himself into the shower.

How long it took to feel clean, he didn't know. But it took longer to stop shaking. A second more- not even, a _half_ second more - and he'd have killed Malfoy right then. With his bare hands. Like an animal.

Like a wolf.

Like the mindless, rampaging beasts in the movies Harry had watched with muggle friends at Durmstrang, like the Wizarding World believed him to be. He was becoming that nightmare and it terrified him to the core. The break in his ever present self control...

It was accelerating. His fall into the feral nature of the beast inside him. And he didn't know what to do.

The bathroom door opened and before the sound registered in his mind, Severus had the intruder pinned against the door with one arm pulled taunt up his back. The next second he noticed a familiar scent and recognized the salt and pepper hair. Severus let go and stepped back.

"You surprised me," he muttered.

"I gathered," Remus murmured, rubbing his shoulder with a frown. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." Severus grabbed a towel, wrapping it around himself for decency. "Did you need something?"

Remus didn't answer at first. When Severus finally looked at him, he found himself pinned with a concerned gaze.

"Severus. Are you okay?"

He tried to say he was but the words stuck fast in his throat, refusing to come free a second time. He wasn't. Not at all. When Remus pulled him into his arms, Severus let him. They said nothing and Severus concentrated on the warmth of Remus' body and the sound of water hitting the tiles of his still running shower. He wrapped his arms tight around Remus and clung to him as if the other man could banish the vile thing growing stronger inside him with every passing of the moon.

"I thought you might need me," Remus said softly, warm fingers rubbing over Severus' back. "And if you didn't, I thought I might need you."

Severus held him tighter. He didn't trust his voice to be steady.

_I called for __**you**__. I can't... I can't stop feeling these... these things, needing them, but I called for __**you**__._

Closing his eyes, Severus buried his face against Remus' throat, surrounding himself in the man's scent and warmth. This was why it was worth it. This was why he had to be strong and could not fail. Would not fail.

Remus muttered a drying spell when they finally let go, then led Severus into the bedroom. He sat them both down, taking the brush from Severus' night table, and began to carefully tame Severus' spell dried hair. The silence was a balm, even if Severus could sense the concern churning inside his... Lover, maybe. If he could call them that right now. A few hurried kisses, never enough caring touches. He supposed it was still accurate.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Remus murmured after he'd soothed the knots from Severus' hair.

"No."

It took nearly a minute before Severus realized why he felt a strange sort of deja vu, but unlike years ago when Severus had nearly broken them apart with his inability to trust anyone with his weaknesses, Remus didn't press further. He didn't risk Severus' rage, and that was almost painful. Severus understood, of course. Things were still... strange. New and old at the same time. So much history and yet the years apart had marked them.

Remus was the same in all the ways that truly counted, but he had matured. Calmed. He was not the man Severus had once loved, but a better one. One that Severus was even less worthy of. One that was humbling to be near because no matter how long it had been, Remus' feelings for him had not wavered or weakened, even though they should have. Even though Severus had done his level best to break him.

He didn't want to talk, but somehow he had to. About something. Just not Lucius Malfoy or the Horcruxes. Those were burdens he would shoulder alone. However...

"I attacked someone today," he found himself murmuring because this was something he _could_ talk about. One area he could be weak in because Remus was - had always been and would always be - his pack leader. "I was so... angry. Felt it, like a switch in my mind, and I..."

Remus was quiet a moment and the brush had gone still. Severus could scent his surprise. Then Remus set down the brush and shifted to press against Severus' back, wrapping his arms around him. His head came to rest upon Severus' shoulder.

"Who?"

"Someone I used to know," Severus murmured because he could not say the name; he would not talk about him. The words were already hard enough to rip from his throat. "He threatened me and I snapped. I nearly killed him."

Remus squeezed tighter a moment. "But you didn't. You stopped."

"Barely." Severus closed his eyes and leaned back into Remus' body. "Barely."

For a long time, they sat in silence. Severus concentrated on the sound of Remus' heartbeat and the feel of warm breath against his neck. He laid his head back on Remus' shoulder and didn't even think about how he was baring his throat. The trust that showed. Even when he was trying so hard to push Remus away, Severus still trusted him with everything he had.

"I'm going feral," Severus whispered finally. Remus stiffened behind him. "I've known for a while."

Remus buried his face against Severus' throat and a shudder went down his body hard enough that Severus could feel it along the length of his. It was a strange thing. Going feral was something had had known about, distantly, for most of his life. Something that happened to weak minded werewolves without the strength to keep their humanity. It was why the Wizarding World feared them so. A feral wolf was different than a transformed man. A feral wolf remained as wild and uncontained in human form as he was in fur. For Severus, it had been a terrifying notion at first, but now he... almost welcomed it. The freedom.

"Remus, promise me-"

"It's reversible," Remus said quickly, squeezing him tighter. He wasn't even denying what Severus claimed. He _knew_. "I've heard of it reversing. Don't you dare give me some kind of 'if I don't make it' speech-"

"Remus."

He fell silent but his scent was loud enough. Anger, grief, love, a swirling mess of feeling that Severus let surround him, comfort him. That was on perk he supposed, just how long his senses stayed heightened. He lifted his hands to rest on Remus'.

"I want you to look after Harry, if it happens," he murmured softly and continued over another protest. "Don't let Dumbledore or the Ministry get their hands on him. They'd twist him, turn him into something harsh and cold. Don't let them send him back to Lily's sister. That would be even worse. It needs to be you."

"Severus..." Remus drew in a shaky breath. "I promise. But it won't come to that. I won't let it."

Severus didn't honestly think that was under Remus' control, but the reassurance still made him feel protected. And it was that precious feeling of security that he had missed most.

Remus stayed for the rest of the day. They took dinner there and spent their time sitting close in front of the fire, just _being_. Severus had rarely been so relaxed and content. The moment was broken near curfew by a light knock at the door. Severus debated answering it, but he had an idea of who it was. Giving Remus' knee a squeeze, he got up and went to it.

Standing behind was not the boy he expected. It was Draco Malfoy.

"Sir," he greeted and though his expression was controlled and neutral, the simple word was enough testament to his mental state. Draco was always very careful with his words. He knew the power of them. If he was "sir" and not "Uncle" or "Professor", the boy had to be rather bothered. Severus let him in and closed the door quietly behind.

"Good evening," he intoned. "What can I do for you?"

The boy started to answer and then went still as he realized Remus was on the couch Severus had just left. He snapped his mouth closed and frowned. For a moment, Severus thought he might have to kick Remus out but the man was already getting up to go. He greeted Draco cheerfully and headed out, brushing his hand to Severus' on the way. When the door closed behind him, only some of the stress in Draco's body drained out. Severus led him to sit down and poured fresh tea for both of them.

"What was Professor Lupin doing here?" Draco asked, eyes on the tea held securely in both hands, letting it warm his fingers.

"We were discussing a few troubled students." Draco glanced at him and Severus knew he didn't believe that but at least he had enough decorum not to call Severus on the lie. A Malfoy knew how to play the game of social graces. "What did you need to talk about, Draco?"

Draco, not Mr. Malfoy. Godson, not student. Draco lowered his eyes again even as he drew up straight and strong in his seat. So unlike Harry in that, more like Severus himself, not wanting to show weakness even to friends.

"Father has asked me to stay at school for the winter holiday," he began and his voice was as steady as his expression, even if he couldn't quite meet Severus' eyes. "Would you allow me to join you and Harry for your holiday?"

Severus had no problem with that, but he did wonder something. "What about your mother?"

"She is visiting other family." The faintest sour edge to his voice told Severus exactly what Draco thought about that. "She won't be back in the country before the end of the break."

And that was... odd. Very odd. For Narcissa to forgo a chance to be with her son even for a few days, especially after the first time they had been apart in Draco's short life... It set Severus on edge and not just because he could sense the rejection and bitterness Draco felt. The two of them had always been close, especially after Lucius began to change. Severus had the urge to curse. He had been so careful to watch Draco for any signs of abuse that he hadn't thought to do the same for Narcissa. Something had to be going on and his duty to Draco demanded he find out what.

"Harry will be pleased to have you join us. I will arrange things." He hesitated and then decided it wasn't worth doing so. "Professor Lupin will likely join us as well."

Draco didn't look exactly surprised but there was a suspicious glint in his eyes, something oddly cautious. "I see. Then you talk with him often about troubled students."

"I suppose." Severus had no intention of actually talking about this and hoped Draco would get the point.

Except he didn't. "What does my father have to say on this?"

That made Severus pause. He looked at the boy closely, seeing the edge of defiance in his gaze tempered by a knowledge of danger Severus had hoped never to see. But Draco was not like Harry. Draco knew things, noticed them.

"It is not your father's concern who I do and do not consort with," he answered finally and Draco got up to his feet.

"Then you had a row?" he asked and seemed almost relieved. "Apologise. He'll forgive you. He likes you."

Severus didn't want to look at Lucius Malfoy's face for the rest of his life. He closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. "It's a little more complicated than that-"

"No it isn't." Draco folded his arms over his chest, agitation radiating from him. "I'm not stupid, Uncle. I know about that kind of thing. _Deviances_."

Where did he even hear that? Severus did his best to keep his composure through the crackle of panic in his chest at the very idea of anyone knowing about his own preferences. He still heard Lord Avery's voice in his mind.

"Draco. This conversation is over."

The boy looked mutinous a moment, then jerked his gaze away. Moodily, he started for the door. His hand was on the knob when his control broke and he muttered out, "If you weren't fighting maybe he'd let me come home."

Severus rose and went to him, turning Draco to face him. He rested his hands on his shoulders, squeezing even if Draco refused to look at him.

"Your father cares a great deal for you," he murmured even if he didn't quite know why he was defending the man.

"No he doesn't." Draco's hands were tightly fisted at his sides. He lifted his eyes, gray eyes hurt and tired. "You're not there. You don't see it. He won't even talk to me anymore. He won't look at me or... or even be in the same _room_ anymore. He doesn't care about anyone. Just _you._ Even Mother left."

"What?"

"She left. She took her things and went to live in the summer house."

Severus reeled. When had this happened? He'd been so caught up in his own life that he hadn't noticed- "When?"

"Last year." Draco was staring at the floor again, brows furrowed tight. "She said she needed some space. Something about finding her passions. I think she went to live with her lover. She visits, like when school started."

The fact that Draco was so attuned to the fact that his parents had lovers at all shook Severus deeply. And yet, Draco had not let anyone notice. He'd kept it inside him, quiet and waiting, and simply gone on. It made Severus wonder what else he'd hidden.

"I apologize," Severus murmured softly and it was for more than simply the current state of Draco's parents. "If you ever wish to talk, my door is open to you."

Draco hung his head and Severus heard him swallow. "...I know."

The boy went on back to his dorm soon after, leaving Severus to ponder what else he may have missed. He would need to contact Narcissa and see what of his suspicions were correct, but his primary goal had to be ridding Lucius of the parasite in his mind. One horcrux found, five others to locate. And somehow, he doubted the other five would be as welcoming of his presence.

**Chapter 20**

**Through The Darkness**

Harry felt as if his life had become some strange show on the telly. He remembered sitting at a muggle friend's house along with Cibor, watching monster shows and laughing over how much of it had been wrong. And now his life felt like that, full of monsters and wrongness. He didn't have the first clue how to handle this.

The first day or so, Harry just went about his usual routine even though he barely heard anything during classes and was more than abysmal at the practicals. Hermione offered to tutor him but that ended up being a disaster with how unfocused he was. He just couldn't stop thinking about his father's words.

Imaging Severus Snape as a werewolf just seemed... _wrong._ He was the epitome of control and calm, something Harry wished he was better at. There was no way this was real, but his father rarely joked and never pranked. He had always been a quiet, solemn man who loved Harry dearly but barely smiled and kept his thoughts to himself. Not crazy, not cruel, not a whirling fury of claws and death.

Actually, the idea of a werewolf was funny enough to be a joke, but Harry, like all magically raised children, knew they were real. And being real, he knew it was possible. This bout of sickness matched up with the full moon at least. It... was possible.

One thing Father had always taught him was to never believe anything without proof. So Harry went to the library on Saturday and worked through as many books as he could manage, eating up anything said about werewolves. It was slow going, as he wasn't all that great at research, but he needed to know. He needed to make sure.

"Are you in the library _willingly?_"

Harry jumped, staring up at Hermione from his pile of books. She cocked a brow and then looked over his books with badly veiled interest.

"I don't remember there being a test on magical creatures," she mused as she leaned over him to get a better look at the page he was on. "Werewolves?"

"It's- um-" Harry reeled, trying to find some explanation that didn't involve spilling everything. His head felt blank and vacant. "It's for... er... I'm doing extra credit?"

"Is that so?" Hermione flipped to the next page. "On werewolves?"

"Yes! For- uh- Transfiguration. My grade's abysmal."

"I can believe that."

Except even though she sat down with him, Harry was pretty sure she didn't believe a bit. But she didn't say anything about it. Instead, she pulled out some parchment, inked a quill, and got to work helping him. Harry felt a sudden flare of affection for her.

The two of them worked through the morning and broke for lunch mostly because even though he was the one with vested interest, Harry's eyes were falling out of his skull with boredom. They'd combed through dozens of books, Hermione filling up foot after foot of parchment with her tiny, tidy scrawling. Harry mostly just found books for her and and ran to get more parchment. Thankfully, Hermione didn't seem to mind doing the legwork.

It was after lunch when Hermione's quill stopped dead mid-word. She stared at the parchment, her eyes growing wider. Harry looked up from his own book when he realized she'd stopped writing.

"You okay?"

Hermione opened her mouth to say something and then closed it again and just _looked_ at him. "Harry, why are we doing this research?"

"Uh, for the extra-"

"No, the _real_ reason."

Harry felt the blood drain from his face as she continued to stare at him.

"Oh man," Hermione murmured and there was a faint hysterical tinge to her tiny voice.

Harry shot to his feet as panic raced through him. "You can't tell _anyone!_ Okay?! You can't or- or- or terrible things will happen because he's _terrified_ of anyone noticing. I mean, he didn't even tell _me_ until just now and if he finds out you know I don't know what he'll do to me-"

Hermione just stared as she grew more and more pale. "Professor Snape?"

"And Professor Lup- Oh _Merlin_ I didn't say that. I didn't say _anything_. Oh Merlin, I _really_ don't know what Professor Lupin would do to me if he knew I-"

The deluge of words stopped when Hermione slammed her hand over his mouth. They stayed like for a long few seconds, staring at one another as everything settled. Finally, Hermione let go and sat back down in her chair. She looked at the pile of parchment, her quill, the sprawled out books, and then looked back at Harry. For a moment, he thought she might lose it right there and just flip out but she didn't. She folded her hands in her lap and took a slow, deep breath.

"Okay, Harry," she said quietly. "What were you looking for specifically?"

Harry almost hugged her. Instead, because his father would be mortified by his lack of decorum, he just melted back into his chair and began peppering her with questions. It was a true token to Hermione's strength of character that the very act of playing tutor brightened her color. Soon, she was as animated as Harry in finding the answers he needed.

That night, Harry marched himself to his father's rooms. He knocked, gave the password, and went on in without waiting. Thankfully, Severus was settled in an armchair surrounded by papers. He gave Harry a nod of greeting, lifting a brow at the abrupt entrance.

"To what do I owe the honor?" Severus drawled out and Harry could tell he wasn't expecting anything good. And now that Harry was here, he felt his insides suddenly churn tight.

"Er." Harry blinked because everything he had meant to say had disappeared in a flash when confronted with his father and what his father was. He felt lost. Grasping for straws, he muttered out pathetically, "I was in the library today."

"On a Saturday?" Severus set aside his grading quill aside and began to gather up the various piles of parchment. "Surely not. What sort of torture did McGonagall assign you?"

Somehow, the hint of sarcasm relaxed Harry's nerves a bit. He dug his toe into the carpet, shrugging a shoulder. "Did some research. You know, I hear that's what libraries are for."

"I might know of that rumor."

Harry took a breath and glanced at the stone ceiling, counting out forked cracks.

"...I was looking up werewolves."

Severus was quiet a moment. Then he continued shuffling about parchment. "Should I take this to mean you found the answers you were looking for?"

"Sort of." Harry scratched through his hair, curling the longer strands in his fingers idly. "I mean, I learned a lot. But the books didn't have everything I wanted to know."

"I see." Severus got up and took the grading back to his office with his quill. When he came back he didn't sit, instead watching Harry with a guarded gaze. Weighing his reactions, wondering what he was thinking. Sometimes, Harry thought maybe his father could read his mind. "What would you like to know?"

Harry measured his words out carefully. He didn't want to offend Severus or pull up any terrible memories, but this was something he needed to know. Something to make it all make sense.

"How did you get turned?"

Severus did not jerk so much as freeze so solidly that he barely breathed. And then he sagged, as if something so terribly heavy had been set on his shoulders that he couldn't quite hold them up anymore. He went back to his chair. "That... is a difficult story."

"I'm sorry," Harry blurted but he wouldn't take it back. He needed to know.

"No, it's all right. I..." Severus rested his head on one hand. "It happened while I was attending school here. I was sixteen."

Harry settled himself on the floor near Severus' chair, dragging a knee to his chest. "Did it hurt?"

"My memory of it is fractured. The bite made me very sick. I nearly died." Severus settled back in the chair, gazing out at nothing rather than Harry. Lost in thoughts and memories. "There was a werewolf attending school here. Like I do now, he kept himself very well hidden. Then a friend of his who knew of his infection decided to play a very nasty prank on me. We didn't get along and he thought it would be funny to lure me to his friend while transformed."

"What- how would _anyone_ think that was funny?!" Harry blurted and wished he knew who it was so he could punch them in the nose! Because come on, what about common sense?!

"He had a... particular sense of humor." Severus sighed a little, shaking his head. "In any case, another friend of theirs found out about the prank. He came to save me. I suppose in a way he did, as I still live, but he was too late to save me from the bite. I spent the next few weeks sick and dying. They were sure I would not survive the first transformation. But I did."

It was such a simple story when told like this. Harry knew there had to be more, but that his father would share this much with him made him happy. Well, not exactly happy, but content, at least.

"Do you still know him?" he asked shyly. "The one that bit you?"

"Oh yes. He and I are..." Severus hesitated, as if tasting various words in his head to find the right ones. "We have kept in contact over the years, more or less."

"Were you mad at him...? For biting you?"

"I was for a time. Then I realized it hadn't been his fault in the first place. He had done everything he could not to infect anyone else."

Harry sat back on his arms, watching Severus talk as if none of this were really all that important anymore. It just _was_. Severus always seemed to take everything in stride. "What happened to his friend?"

"He...was punished. In a fashion." Severus shook his head a bit. "And then he joined up with some very bad people. Last I heard, he was serving time in Azkaban."

"Serves him right," Harry grumbled. That made it harder to go punch him in the face but the things he'd heard about Azkaban - Durmstrang students were notorious for their ghost stories and Azkaban was a great stage - soothed him. Whoever this person was, he was getting punished and that made things right.

They talked a little about school and less important things. Harry liked it, falling back into the routine they'd used to have before life turned strange on him. He still wasn't... _okay_ with the werewolf thing or the adopted thing, not really, but he was trying his best and at least Father was too.

As he got up to go, Severus stopped him.

"Just so that it does not surprise you," he murmured with a strange sort of hesitance, "we will be celebrating the holiday at home. Draco is joining us and... Professor Lupin will as well."

Harry blinked with confusion, then nodded and went on his way. Professor Lupin? Well, he supposed that was okay. So he and Severus were better friends than Harry'd thought. It was good, he guessed. His father needed more friends. And Professor Lupin was nice. So it was okay.

Maybe. He'd have to think about that.


End file.
